King of Serpents: Prisoner of Azkaban
by karatemaster101
Summary: An infamous convict escapes from Azkaban. Goblins are planning to rebel in Haven. Dementors are prowling Hogwarts. Draco is acting strangely. And to top it all off, nothing is really as it seems, meaning Artemis is the only one who can solve this mystery. Just when things seemed easy...
1. The Year of the Rat

**Book Three: In which Artemis becomes even more badass than he already is. But he still can't run a mile without collapsing.**

* * *

"1 – 2 – 3 – _Legilimens!_"

_Artemis felt like a spear was diving through his mind. _

_No! He mentally conjured a large shield, blocking the invader. Putting forth a boring memory of him as a child, listening to Juliet lecture him…he reflected it onto the bronze… _

_The spear evaporated into smoke, and suddenly the smoke formed into a ghostly horseman, dissolving past the walls that Artemis had formed around his mind. His memory dissipated._

_You're not getting away that easily. Artemis formed a maze within his own mind – a colossal maze that ran for miles in four dimensions, whose walls always moved and shifted, with no solution._

_The horseman took one look around him, and disappeared._

_But Artemis conjured his own weapon – a swirling wind in the shape of an anchor. It attached itself to the horseman, and he was being pulled, back into another mind –_

_They began battling for control – Artemis' anchor overpowered the horseman, wrapping around him like a boa constrictor, but suddenly he was confronted with a huge structure – a castle of some sort, guarded by a hundred more of the same –_

And Artemis snapped back into reality.

"Amazing work. Truly, quite amazing," his father said, shaking his head in awe. "You blocked me, even though I was expecting the guard memory, _and _nearly got past my defenses that time, too – and it's only August."

"It's just a matter of quick thinking," Artemis said modestly.

"True. But still – it took me several years to get to this level, and you achieved it in less than three months. I have no doubt that you can block just about anyone and get past some lower-level Occlumens, too. A few more weeks and you may even be able to plant false memories – that, in all respects, is exceptional."

"Tell me something, father. Are all people in the family trained this way?"

"Just about. It is a necessary skill that we are trained in. We have many secrets, and to let someone access them…it would be quite devastating."

* * *

_Two months ago_

"Father, you have quite a bit of explaining to do. Let's start with my gift of Parseltongue, for example – a _hereditary _trait."

His father had sighed, and muttered something along the lines of, "I was hoping it wouldn't have to come to this."

Artemis Sr. had then said, instead, "Think about it. Look at our last name."

And so, with plenty of poking and prodding – "But Herpo the Foul was Greek."

"Our ancestors have had plenty of time to migrate and change their name, Artemis. It's all been Anglicized. Why do you think all of our family names have had something to do with Greek mythology?"

Oh. Right.

_Herpo the Foul had given the Ollivanders the scale in his wand – the Ollivanders, who have been in business since 300 B.C. Was that what Ollivander had meant? 'Quite the gift of foresight,' was his exact words. _

"Hugo de Fole was actually named Hector, but he changed his name to sever his ties to Herpo the Foul. He wasn't exactly someone you would be proud of being descended from – a very dark wizard, he was one of the first Parselmouths, created the first basilisk, and did all sorts of crazy things," Artemis Fowl Sr. explained.

"I wouldn't exactly be proud of this relation, either," Artemis deadpanned. So that voice…well, now everything made some sense…why he had felt such a natural anger towards Riddle the previous year…and why the voice kept calling Riddle a thief. Artemis deduced that somewhere in time, Slytherin's ancestors had managed to acquire the gift of Parseltongue, probably from Herpo the Foul's descendants, hence the disdain.

_That thief will pay dearly…in time…_

But seeing as Herpo the Foul was long dead, Artemis assumed that the voice was simply a natural part of himself, that he had been born with. A tie to his ancestors, that had been suppressed through generations of denial of the connection, which he had discovered only now.

"Despite the fact that the Fowls have evolved into a less…shall we say, extreme, family, we still carry the trait. And we have to hide it."

"I see."

"Which is why I will teach you Occlumency."

* * *

Artemis, naturally, had picked up the skill like a second instinct.

His father had been an amazing teacher – he obviously knew the limits of his son, and pushed them to make up for the years that he had mistaken the prodigy for a Squib – something that exhausted Artemis but also made him eternally grateful.

They had started off with daily, half-hour sessions of meditation, which was easy enough, before Artemis Sr. had determined that his son had been strengthened enough to charge into the next step, which was an actual, hands-on experience.

At first, Artemis had been worried that his father would pick up some memories that he preferred to keep secret – the man was right, Occlumency _was _a necessary skill – but the other had only grazed the surface, picking up Artemis' lost childhood. Artemis had been forced to re-experience those times, when he had been alone in the large manor with only two Butlers and an insane mother for company.

It had been rather uncomfortable and guilt-inducing for both father and son.

But Artemis learned quickly. At first, his strategy was to shield these memories with other, less significant ones, to buy some time to clear his mind, although the curtain was still somewhat weak. So, when his father began tearing the memory shield aside, he shored up his defenses in return, and pretty soon, was able to shove his father out altogether.

Not only was he able to withstand external invasion of his mind, but also internal pressures. Sometimes he and his father would communicate in Parseltongue, and Artemis was smart enough to know that telling his father about the little voice inside his head every time that happened was not a good idea as it would only provoke heavier surveillance. But thanks to Occlumency, he now not only understood the correct method of controlling his own thoughts, but also the theory behind it. Because of this new knowledge, Artemis was not blindly shoving his subconscious-thing into a flimsy box out of instinctive desperation anymore, but rather, systematically securing it within a fortified vessel.

And thanks to his great mindpower finally shielding the voice correctly, it had not bothered him since.

(Unfortunately, while it was out of sight, it was not completely out of mind…and unbeknownst to him, would continue to fester for years, waiting for a weakness, a mode of escape…)

* * *

Artemis Fowl Sr., quite pleased, had then started his son on Legilimency, which turned out to be much easier now that he had gotten the concept down.

"You make Severus Snape look like a novice, and that's saying something."

"As in Professor Snape, the Potions teacher?"

"The very same. One of the greatest Occlumens I have ever seen."

That explained his Head of House's constantly unreadable expression.

"We went to school together – he was a few years younger than me. I was in the same year as Lucius Malfoy – not exactly a peaceful combination."

"I can imagine."

"You seem to get along with his son pretty well."

"Draco is less extreme and stubborn – he's still young; he has not been firmly rooted enough yet and can easily doubt his beliefs. For his sake, I hope that he realizes his father's true nature – he's in denial about the entire Chamber incident still." Artemis thought of his friend. Where was he now? Probably at home, with his father, and mother, and Dobby, trying to ignore it all.

Angeline had been quite pleased, and to help out, she sometimes snuck up on Artemis and did a silent _Legilimens _when he was least expecting it. It had shocked him the first time his mother had done it, but he never made the mistake of letting his guard down ever again.

As a matter of fact…This could be a new way to battle the fairy _mesmer_…The reflective sunglasses worked quite well, but it would look utterly ridiculous if one constantly walked around wearing them. Especially indoors.

Artemis grinned.

* * *

Besides Legilimency, he had worked on the secret of the diary from his second year over the summer. He hadn't had much time, because this year, there had actually been summer homework assigned (which was a good excuse to perform…other magic at home). It wasn't difficult…just tedious. Artemis had better things to do than read up on goblin rebellions.

There were a few leads, but nothing of great significance. Artemis realized that whatever the diary was, it was probably extremely dark and obscure, to have so little reference to it.

Before he knew it, the owls for the third year had arrived, along with a permission slip to Hogsmeade.

"Don't cause any trouble," his mother had warned, before signing the paper.

"For heaven's sake, Mother, what do you take me for?" Artemis retorted. "That's the Weasley twins' job."

His mother gave him a look. "You know what I mean, Artemis. I know you wouldn't be contented with mere pranks."

"We will need to go to London again," his father remarked, changing the topic. "I'm fairly certain that the old Lockhart books won't be used anymore."

Actually, Artemis still had them. He was using the Lockhart photographs on the back as test subjects for some new spells that he had been trying to invent. So far, he had discovered a hex that would cause one to sprout millions of tiny tentacles and a curse that literally turned someone inside-out (vice versa!), which was such a horrifying spectacle that he immediately found the countercurse (versa vice!) and used it, before burning the book and all evidence that such a thing that occurred, vowing to never use it again.

He supposed that some would find his sense of humor twisted and perverted – but then again, Lockhart _did _deserve it.

* * *

_Back to the present_

"Why look, Arty, aren't these your friends?" his mother asked, showing him the paper.

Looking at the front page of the Daily Prophet, Artemis realized that his "friends" were on there indeed. Apparently, Arthur Weasley had won some drawing, and the money had funded their trip to Egypt (and a new wand for Ronald Weasley, who had snapped it in an accident with the Whomping Willow the previous year).

All nine Weasleys were smiling up at them – Arthur Weasley and his wife, Molly, and their seven children, listed from oldest to youngest in the caption: Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George (or was it George and Fred? Which twin was older, anyway?), Ron, and little Ginny, who, happily enough, seemed to have recovered from the entire Chamber incident. Artemis was acquainted with the youngest five, with whom he had shared his Hogwarts experiences, but Bill and Charlie had already graduated years earlier and were now working.

According to the short article, Bill was a curse-breaker at Gringotts, and brought his family to Egypt because that was where his work had currently taken him. He remembered that Ronald had once mentioned that Charlie was a dragon breeder in Romania, as well. Percy, the arrogant Prefect who took things too seriously, would probably end up working at the Ministry. As for the twins – he didn't know where they would go. They were the complete opposite of Percy; they _never _took anything seriously.

"Yes, I suppose," Artemis answered.

"What's that thing that the youngest boy is holding?" asked his father, peering at the paper.

"It looks like a rat. An extremely fat, lazy rat with a missing claw," Artemis said.

Fowl Sr. shrugged, choosing not to comment on the topic, although Artemis, even without using Legilimency, could tell that his father was silently commenting on money. Ever since his father's capture and imprisonment in Russia (Karkaroff was still at large, by the way, but Artemis chose to leave to topic alone – for now), the man had been less concerned about gold and more about his family.

However, he loved his family enough to actually make the gold to give them a comfortable enough life – meaning new robes for everyone every year, at the very least. The youngest Weasleys were dressed in hand-me-downs. Not that they cared – they looked cheerful enough.

* * *

_Diagon Alley_

Artemis looked at his book list. Most of them he already had, but – what was that? _The Monster Book of Monsters_ was the last one on the scroll. Shrugging, they walked into the bookstore.

"Hogwarts, right?" the clerk behind the counter asked. Artemis nodded. The frazzled-looking wizard leaned back against the wall and tried to stifle a sob. "Please don't tell me you want _The Monster Book of Monsters_," he whined.

"What's so awful about it?" his father asked.

The clerk walked over to a cage in the corner with a large cane and pointed. Artemis looked, and was surprised that he hadn't noticed it before. Dozens of large, thick books were in there – and every single one was jumping on top of one another, snapping and biting with their – were those _teeth_? – and trying to kill each other in general. Two actually teamed up, seized the covers of a third one, and began pulling it apart. Strips of paper were flying everywhere.

"No, no, no, no!" the manager yelled, and poked the cane through the bars of the cage like a lance and fought off the other two books, which immediately turned on each other. He sighed desperately. "We've already lost half of our stock because they keep trying to destroy each other; this is even worse than that time we bought four hundred copies of _The Invisible Book of Invisibility_ and never found a single one." Finally, the poor man managed to wrench a snapping, snarling book free and immediately pounced upon it, binding it with a belt.

"Here you go," he sighed, handing it to Artemis.

Artemis' father cocked an eyebrow suspiciously. "How do you even control it?"

The clerk shrugged and moaned. "How should I know? If you tell me I will worship you for the rest of my life."

The book in Artemis' hands was still growling and struggling. Nervously, he pulled the belt tighter and wrapped it around a second time. He poked it with his wand experimentally. "Have you tried Stunning them?"

The clerk nodded. "We've tried _everything_ – the only thing that can stop them is a nice, strong belt, and we don't have many of them left."

Artemis' stomach turned. Why did they even need _this _book, of all books, this year?

* * *

Leaving the store, they were confronted with a wanted poster of a crazy, haggard looking man.

"What in the world?" Angeline gasped.

"What is it, Mother?" Artemis asked.

"Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban – _good lord,_" his father moaned, reading aloud from the paper. "Security is getting more lax every day."

"The question is, how he would have done so," Angeline said. "The entire place is guarded by an ocean and those Dementors – it's been that way for years."

"Well, if anything happens, we'll be safe," Artemis Senior muttered. "I'd like to see him swim across the Irish Sea."

Angeline rolled her eyes. She kept reading. "Apparently, he was saying 'He's at Hogwarts' before he escaped." She looked at her husband. "You don't think that he meant Harry Potter, do you?"

"I really wish I was wrong, but probably," Artemis Senior sighed. "Well, we can't dawdle like this all day and block traffic. Artemis still needs new Potions supplies and books. Come, Artemis – Artemis?"

Artemis snapped out of his daze. He had been observing the man in the poster. Sirius Black. "He doesn't look too stable."

"Well, that's what you get after living with Dementors for twelve years." Artemis had never experienced the effects of a Dementor first-hand, but from what he had read on them…they didn't sound very nice at all. He hoped that he would never have to see one.

"Nasty things – don't do anything that will force you to be involved with one."

Artemis nodded. He was too smart to get caught, anyway.

"Let's go."


	2. Snakes on a Plane, Dementors on a Train

**Chapter two! **

**I'm updating fast now because this school year I know will be super hectic. So...savor it while you can :)**

* * *

"Good-bye, Mother. Father."

"Good-bye, son. Be careful."

"I will."

_This year will be another adventure, won't it?_

He turned around to leave, but his mother poked him and slipped him a small package. "I know you don't like sweets, but you can always share this with your friends. Happy Birthday," she whispered, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

* * *

"Hey, what's that?" Blaise asked.

"A birthday present from my parents."

"Today's your birthday? How come you never tell us anything?" Blaise whined.

"I usually celebrate it at home the day before because we're stuck on this train the actual date," Artemis said.

"Open it; lemme see what's inside," Blaise urged excitedly.

"Calm yourself, you monkey," Artemis scolded. He unwrapped it – it was a large bar of chocolate. He rolled his eyes – of course his mother _would –_

"Sweet! Can I have some?" Blaise exclaimed.

Artemis pulled the bar away. "No. You're hyper enough as it is – you can have some _after _the Feast."

Blaise sunk back down in his chair and crossed his arms like a little child, pouting. "I thought sharing was supposed to be caring. Are you insinuating that you don't care about me?"

Artemis rolled his eyes. "I don't care about your childish needs, Blaise. And I am not refusing to share. I am simply taking the best course of action by sharing with you at the safest time."

Blaise glared.

Theodore cleared his throat, trying to distract Blaise from the offending bar of candy."What do you guys think about the entire Sirius Black escape?" he asked, holding the newspaper. The crazed face of the escaped prisoner was still clawing at the camera. Artemis shuddered at the memory of his parents telling him the entire story about Black.

* * *

_*Flashback*_

The Blacks had been a notoriously old, Dark, pureblood Slytherin family. His younger brother Regulus had been a Death Eater, although he died in a mysterious accident and was forgotten. Black also had cousins – Narcissa, Andromeda, and Bellatrix Black; Narcissa had married into the Malfoys, as Artemis knew; Andromeda had been disowned for marrying a Muggle-born wizard named Ted Tonks; Bellatrix had married Rodolphus Lestrange.

"My brother," Angeline sniffed. "Both of my older brothers were ugly, dull dunces. I hated them – they'd tease me all the time and put spiders in my things. I got my revenge on them when I finally went to Hogwarts and learned a few nice hexes."

The Lestranges had been one of Voldemort's most avid supporters – and so, apparently, was Sirius Black. As a child, Black had broken the Slytherin tradition in the family and got Sorted into Gryffindor after befriending James Potter. He had even been James' best man at his wedding, and Harry Potter's godfather when the boy had been born.

After Voldemort had targeted the Potters, he also became the Secret-Keeper to the Potters. But he betrayed them to the Dark Lord. Peter Pettigrew, another childhood friend, had revealed the fact to the world, provoking Black in a duel. Despite his madness, Black was a very powerful wizard – he had struck with his own curse, blowing up the entire street, resulting in Peter Pettigrew's death as well as the demise of twelve other Muggles who had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Artemis found it odd that a madman could conceal his intentions so well that Harry Potter's parents were fooled into trusting him with their most important secret, but he said nothing. Serial killers, after all, were also insane, but they were good at acting enough to evade capture from the authorities long enough to claim multiple victims. Artemis briefly wondered when this Sirius Black would have gone wrong - Tom Riddle, after all, was a model student before becoming Lord Voldemort, but he had probably been sadistic and crazy long before he ever dropped the act, as proven by the entire first Chamber of Secrets incident, which happened when Tom was still a fifth-year. Maybe Sirius Black was that way, too, though Artemis doubted that he had been plotting on the Dark side for that long; few people had the patience or the genius to keep up such a well-done lie for so many years.

"Thirteen people with one curse," his father said. "All they found left of Pettigrew was a finger. I don't care how smart or skilled you are, Artemis. Stay away from him – he is a crazy, dangerous man who will stop at nothing to get his goals, that is, killing Harry Potter, even if it means steamrolling over any obstacle that appears in front of him."

Artemis liked mysteries and adventures, but even he was not stupid enough to go running after Sirius Black. If the man didn't bother him, he had no reason to retaliate. Unfortunately, he had the slightest suspicion that he could be drawn into the conflict, if Black somehow tried to target Harry Potter…

* * *

"It is a mystery of _how_ he escaped in the first place. Couldn't someone have helped him?" Blaise said.

"He was in a very high-security cell. Only the Dementors could open it, and they don't listen to anyone," Artemis responded.

"I bet he disguised himself somehow so that the Dementors couldn't detect his presence properly," Theodore said, playing with his medallion.

"How? By putting a mask over his face?" Artemis questioned. "Dementors don't need to look at faces. They simply detect a human presence, and they know someone is there."

Theodore shrugged, and twirled the silver circle between the pointer fingers and thumbs of his hands. "Maybe...maybe he did something that could mask his 'human presence,' then, so that the Dementors couldn't..._feel_ him when he walked past them and escaped."

There was a rather uncomfortable, awkward silence.

Blaise cleared his throat. "So. Ummm. Are we still in for the Defense club, guys?"

This seemed to alleviate the tension, because they all dutifully ignored the previous conversation and started this one. "Maybe. It depends on our Defense teacher this year. Hopefully he won't be as much of a – in Professor Snape's words – a _dunderhead_ as his predecessors," Artemis said.

"Don't say that. I actually miss Lockhart. He gave us something to make fun of," Theodore joked. "Too bad I spent most of the year in the hospital wing."

"Yeah, you missed our Valentine's present for him," Blaise laughed. They had described the prank that they had pulled last year on the man. Artemis normally did not sink to such low, childish tactics, but Lockhart had been an exception. Defiling the Great Hall with his silly shenanigans – the resulting spectacle had been worth it.

"I wonder who the new teacher is, anyway," Theodore said.

"Who knows. He can't be much worse than the last two," Blaise said darkly.

"Don't jinx us," Theodore warned.

"Keeping up the lessons would be a good idea, but I do not know where we can find the time. Our free periods have been filled in with electives this year," Artemis pointed out.

"Which electives are you taking?" Theodore asked.

"I plan to take Arithmancy and Ancient Runes," Artemis said. "It's much better than Divination – that subject is too murky and indecisive for me. And I know enough about Muggles without learning wizards' skewed point of view on them."

"Oh," Blaise said. "I took Arithmancy and Divination. I suck at foreign languages."

"Me, too," Theodore said. "At least we all have Arithmancy."

They pleasantly discussed their plans for the year.

"Right, you've been pleasantly quiet, Draco," Blaise said. "Speak up – what are you doing?"

"Double A's for me. My father would murder me if I took Muggle studies." Lucius Malfoy's blatant dislike of Muggles was well-known. Then, with a sudden frown, he curled up and turned away from them, looking out the window.

_What was wrong with him?_

"I want to keep up our club," Blaise said. "We could work on becoming Animagi together – no matter how good our D.A.D.A. professor is, he won't ever teach us that. It could be really useful."

"You're really set on that idea, aren't you?" Artemis asked.

"Yeah, because he's definitely going to be a monkey," Theodore sniggered.

Blaise glared at him. "Right. That does it, Nott." He leapt at Theodore and before the other could get out of the way, Blaise had the smaller boy pinned to the ground.

"Gah! Let go! Blaise Zabini, get off me this instant!" Theodore yelled, squirming.

Blaise planted a knee in the middle of the other boy's back. "Say uncle."

Artemis rolled his eyes at their silly antics. They were so immature sometimes. "Stop being such children," he ordered.

"If you haven't noticed, Fowl, we're both still under seventeen, so we have all the right to be children we want," Blaise said, sticking out his tongue.

Artemis rolled his eyes.

"Blaise, you should really get off me," Theodore said. "I might get hurt."

"Aw, you'll be perfectly fine."

"Get off me, Blaise; I still have a free hand and I'll hex you!" Theodore tried to yell menacingly, but it came out as more of a laugh instead.

"Whatever."

Suddenly, the train lurched to a stop. "What was that? We can't be at Hogwarts already!"

"Blaise, get off him now," Artemis ordered.

"Yeah, Blaise! I mean it!" Theodore squeaked.

Blaise didn't move.

"Blaise?" Theodore asked.

But the other boy had frozen in his spot and was staring ahead blankly.

"Blaise?" Theodore asked again, poking the boy. Blaise didn't respond.

"Um, hello?" Theodore drew his wand and poked Blaise in the leg. No reaction. Theodore pushed him off. Blaise moved willingly. "Is something wrong? Blaise?" Theodore inquired worriedly.

"Hmmm? What?" Blaise asked absentmindedly.

"I asked if there was something wrong."

"I don't know…" Blaise said. "Does it feel cold? It feels cold. And depressing."

They looked at him.

"Now that you mention it," Artemis said, "It is getting colder." He wrapped his robe around him tighter. Artemis looked out the window – but it was covered in frost. "That's strange," he said. "There shouldn't be s-s-s-snow at th-this time of year…is it a w-w-weather charm gone wrong?" His teeth began chattering uncontrollably.

Theodore screamed. A dark shadow was looming outside the compartment.

Blaise clapped a hand over Theodore's mouth. "Shhh!" His face was pale.

Artemis felt extremely depressed all of a sudden, like there was no reason left to live. Vivid images of his father freezing to death and being tortured suddenly popped up in his mind. He closed his eyes and tried to repress them – but for some reason, it was no use. His father was dying…his friends were being tortured…and all of the things he had learned about Occlumency over the summer were somehow eluding him. There was a huge weight on his chest – he couldn't breathe –

All of a sudden, the weight had been removed, and he felt lighter – his mental state was back to normal. He still had a feeling of unnatural, unreasonable fear lingering, however.

His friends weren't in a much better state, either. Blaise's evenly tanned skin had drained of color, and was covered in cold sweat. Draco was even paler than usual, convulsing and whimpering. And Theodore was curled up on his end of the seat, shivering and sobbing.

Artemis could only imagine what he looked like – probably a vampire. A vampire from a madhouse.

"W-w-what _w-was_ th-th-that?" Blaise asked, still trembling.

Artemis pointed at the retreating shadow. "Probably a Dementor that they sent on board, in case Black was here."

"That's ridiculous," Blaise said angrily.

"Well, as ridiculous as it seems," Theodore said, "we'll probably have to be dealing with them for the rest of the school year, or until they find Black. The papers said that he was moaning _'He's at Hogwarts'_ before he escaped so that's where they'll send the Dementors to find him."

Artemis regained his composure, and found his fingers moving towards the chocolate bar that his mother had sent him. For some reason he wanted a bite, even though he hated sugary sweets in general. He didn't mind when the other boys in the compartment grabbed some, either. They sat there, eating the candy. Remarkably, it actually made Artemis feel better. Sugar normally made him a bit ill and dizzy.

"Chocolate's supposed to be a good help after being around a Dementor," Theodore said, who had stopped shivering by now. The train lurched forward again.

"Well, thank Merlin that thing's gone."

"Think the new Defense teacher knows how to get rid of them?"

They sat in a brooding silence for the rest of the ride.

* * *

_The Great Hall_

"Hey, where's Potter?" Blaise asked.

"Apparently the Dementor found him and he fainted on the train," Draco said.

"Poor guy," Theodore murmured.

"Are you kidding? I could totally use this against him," Draco said evilly.

The Sorting finally began, and the same old routine started. Artemis wondered how many of the teachers felt about the tradition. Surely sitting through decades of an old hat singing practically the same things over and over again would get dreadfully boring. Artemis didn't even have the patience for three years. Sure, it was tradition, but it wouldn't hurt for the Sorting Hat to break the boring tune once in a while. Artemis thought that the Hat had a rather limited vocabulary, because every year it used the same words over and over again to describe the four Houses –

_The Gryffindors are reckless and rash,_

_The Hufflepuffs are way too dumb,_

_And Ravenclaws are boring nerds,_

_And Slytherins are totally awesome!_

Wait, what?

"Blaise!"

"What? That wasn't me, it was Draco! Why do you always have to pin the blame on me? I'm hurt!"

"No it wasn't, you liar."

"Well, for an impromptu composition, I'd say that was fairly decent," Blaise argued.

When _that_ had finished, Artemis noticed Harry Potter and Hermione Granger slip past the doors into the Hall and join the Gryffindors at their table.

Professor Dumbledore caught their attention up at the front. "I must inform you this year that Dementors will be guarding the castle gates…"

"Told you so," Theodore muttered gloomily.

Artemis saw many students visibly wince. They, too, had had bad experiences with the creatures. Blaise was whining about how "Hogsmeade weekends would be ruined."

"…do not run afoul of a Dementor," Professor Dumbledore finished. "On a lighter note, I would like to introduce two new teachers. Please welcome Professor R.J. Lupin, as your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher…" A thin, ragged man stood up and bowed politely with a nod of his chin. He could not have been older than forty, but his messy dress and stressed look made him seem a decade older than normal.

"Doesn't look like much, does he?" Draco sniffed.

"Appearances can be deceiving," Theodore tried. "Maybe he's a really hands-on type of guy, which is why he looks all old."

Artemis shrugged. "Possibly."

"…and Professor Rubeus Hagrid, who will teach Care of Magical Creatures." Said man stood, and his enormous size managed to push his entire table and dinner out of the way.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Draco moaned. "No way!"

Artemis did not exactly hate Hagrid, but he agreed with Draco. As he had experienced in Riddle's memory from the previous year, Hagrid had had a preference for keeping dangerous monsters as pets, even as a young child. This was not going to be pretty – already Artemis was calculating that class to be the most dangerous one of the year.

His stomach did another backflip as he remembered _The Monster Book of Monsters _still hiding inside his trunk. Despite all of his genius, Artemis hated focusing on subjects that he disliked, and as of now, Care of Magical Creatures was definitely one of them.

* * *

**Extras:**

**KM101: Artemis, if you had to choose between a lifetime of any kind of candy you wanted, or a lifetime of any kind of cake you wanted, which would you choose?**

**Artemis: I don't like sweets.  
**

**L: I suggest you choose the cake. That way, if you felt like eating candy instead of cake at the moment, you could simply ask for a cake with the type of candy you wanted on it for decoration. Then you could eat the candy and save the cake for later.**

**Artemis: She didn't ask you.**

**L: I know she didn't ask me. She asked you. And since you said you didn't like sweets, you might as well take up the free offer anyway and give it to me. You should never turn down free food. **

**Artemis: But you already have a lifetime supply of sweets anyway!**

**L: Can't help to have more.**

**Artemis: Those sweets will ruin you. As will your posture.  
**

**L: Actually, they help me think. And I have to sit like this or my reasoning ability lowers by 40%.  
**

**Artemis: Really. And yet, you lost to your wost adversary and I still haven't.**

**L: Listen, if Opal Koboi got her hands on a book that could kill anyone just by writing their name in it, you would be dead by now. I, on the other hand, managed to survive, and would have won had a death god herself not gotten involved. Secondly, you already knew who your enemy was. Opal might be intelligent but she never bothers to cover up her tracks. I, on the other hand, had to figure out who he was, and not only that, but provide proof which he never left because he kills people using a magical book and heart attacks. Thirdly, you did not have to deal with three, fully sentient Opal Kobois running around all at the same time, working all at the same time. One was incarcerated, and one was dead to the world. I, on the other hand -  
**

**Artemis: Fine, fine, I understand! Just take your stupid cake.**

**L: ...Works every time.**

**KM101: So, for those of you who bothered to read this, did you choose the candy or the cake before L pointed out the loophole?**


	3. Growing Monsters

**Kind of a filler chapter, unfortunately, but it contains lots of important information about what will happen in the future.**

**Expect some very obscure foreshadowing in our main characters' verbal interactions as well as random cuteness from Theodore. (I've been watching too many clips of Agnes from _Despicable Me _lately, so forgive me...)**

* * *

The next day brought Artemis' fears to fruition.

It was Care of Magical Creatures class. Artemis had had Ancient Runes with Draco first, which was reasonably enjoyable – to his delight, he had discovered that several Runes corresponded with Gnommish symbols (he still had no clue which came first because the history of each side was sketchy - though Artemis was leaning toward the People, as he was about 82% sure that the fairies existed long before the wizards, given their simple magical type). Being already fluent in Gnommish, it was only a matter of deciphering whatever else he saw by the textbook translations and then memorizing them.

They had met up with Blaise and Theodore outside. "How was Divination, guys?" Draco sneered.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Laughable," he declared. "Trelawney's a complete joke. She actually predicted that Potter would die because he saw some shaggy, ugly black dog in a teacup. She was screaming and waving her arms around and everything like a pathetically horrible actor trying to look passionately good and ending up failing passionately well."

"She said it was a Grim, I think," Theodore said. "But it looked like a giraffe to me. I like giraffes. Giraffes are cute. Don't you like giraffes?"

Blaise ignored Theodore's statement about giraffes (which, Artemis had to admit, was pretty random) and began complaining about how terrible and boring the class was. "…and then just like Trelawney, Brown drops the cup and begins screaming like a dying cat, and predicts that Patil is going to die of heartbreak," Blaise snorted, completing his story from Divination class.

"...Giraffes have such long necks and long legs. You have to admit, it's pretty smart of them. Because they can eat the leaves that none of the other animals can. So when all the grass dies and all the other animals are going hungry, the giraffe is eating all of the good leaves at the top and going 'ha-ha, suckers!'" Theodore rambled.

"And of course Patil is looking at her, half-believing her like the superstitious fool she is, and half-embarrassed at her horrible dancing..."

"...spots are awesome. Like, Dalmatians have spots, and leopards have spots, and so do cheetahs and jaguars and cows, but I think giraffes have coolest spots ever. Because cow spots are big and fat like someone spilled ink on them, and then leopards and cheetahs and jaguars have weird looking spots like they have the chicken pox or rubella, and then Dalmatians have annoying tiny spots like they have giant pimples or something. But giraffe spots are just the right size and they have this cool interlocking mosaic pattern..."

"Honestly, Brown is such a drama queen. If I have to put up with her acting like that again tomorrow I'm not sure _how _I will survive..."

"And they have the coolest things on their heads, too. They're like, little tufts of fur. I mean, what are they? Are they like, tentacles, or antennae, or feelers, or what? Well, they're probably not those things because giraffes are mammals and mammals don't use those weird things...so it's more like they're just..._there_! For no reason! Except there has to be a reason, because there always is one. Maybe it's just to make them look cool. I mean, giraffes look..._different _without those fur tufts. Like there's something missing. It makes them less cute. Less..._giraffe-y_."

Blaise stuck his hands in his pockets and began kicking at the dust on the ground moodily. "Are you even listening to me, Theodore?"

"I feel bad for giraffes when they have to take a drink, though, because they have to bend their long necks all the way down. Normally that would kill them because the gravity makes all the blood rush to their heads, and that could literally make them keel over and faint. But they have these really strong neck muscles that help control that so it all works out. Giraffes are really smart."

"Theodore..."

"Anyway, giraffes are really kickass. I'm serious! Most of the predators in the region stay away from them because they're just so huge. The hyenas are actually scared of them because even though they don't have sharp teeth they have really strong legs, and lions leave them alone most of the time because they're like, 'Nah, takes too much work to bring down this thing and we can't eat it all anyway.' So giraffes are safe, while the zebras and wildebeests and stuff are getting eaten left and right."

"Theodore!"

"What?"

"Shut up about those damn giraffes!"

"But I _like_ giraffes."

"Well, you're not even paying attention!"

"Why should I? I was already there. I saw it too, remember?"

"But the point of me retelling the story is so I can _emphasize _to everyone how _pathetic _those stupid girls are," Blaise complained.

"Really? I thought it was pretty funny," Theodore said.

"Yeah, well, it gets annoying after the first time around."

"It's not as if it's ever going to be true, anyway…"

"Maybe I _will_ switch over to Ancient Runes," Blaise mused. "Divination's just as fraudulent and worthless like Lockhart's class last year."

"Told you so," Draco crowed.

"Oh, shut up," Blaise retorted.

"Your eloquence exceeds me," the other responded sarcastically. Artemis rolled his eyes. _Here we go AGAIN._

* * *

Before the bickering could progress, though, (Professor, now) Hagrid stepped out and led them into the Forbidden Forest. Artemis stared at his growling textbook, still tightly bound, with trepidation. He hadn't even bothered touching it, let alone trying to figure out how to calm it down.

As they passed Potter, Draco made a mock swoon, much to the other boy's chagrin. Artemis cocked an eyebrow at Draco's immaturity, but said nothing. If his friend was going to make a fool out of himself that way, then he probably wasn't going to listen to any good advice until he found out just how ridiculously he was acting the hard way.

Potter turned red and scowled, while his friends patted his shoulder and turned him away, telling him that it wasn't worth it.

Evidently, Artemis had sorely overestimated the maturity level and intelligence capabilities of his fellow year-mates, if something clearly that puerile was enough to get worked up about. He wouldn't be surprised if some sort of physical confrontation or duel broke out

"Now, open yer books –"

They stared at him blankly. "Um, excuse me? How are we supposed to do that?" Blaise snapped.

Hagrid stared at them, crestfallen. "Wha'? Hasn' – Hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?"

Artemis looked around him. Everyone else had their books bound with ropes and belts, crammed into tight bags, or clamped shut with large binder clips, too, so he didn't feel very bad about not bothering to figure his out. Satisfied, Artemis looked back down at his own book. He hadn't touched it since he had bought it at Flourish and Blotts' during the summer. There were more important things he had been focusing on. Also, because he didn't like Care of Magical Creatures, and while he liked books, he certainly did not like monsters or books that acted like one.

"Yeh stroke the spine, o' course," Hagrid said.

The students all did so, and the book let out a contented purr and relaxed. "Oh, so you stroke the _spine_," Draco muttered sarcastically. "Why didn't I think of _that_?"

"I thought they were pretty funny," Hagrid mumbled. Granger shrugged apologetically at him.

* * *

Finally, everyone managed to open their textbooks without trouble. "Righ', now follow me." He led them into a clearing where a number of large animals – crosses between a horse and an eagle – were tethered. "Hippogriffs!" Hagrid said proudly. "Aren' they beautiful?"

Sure, they were beautiful, but their claws also looked unusually sharp. Once again, Artemis had never been fond of Care of Magical Creatures even before this, and the reason why was quite obvious. "Come a bi' closer," he urged, but only three Gryffindors did so. Of course – Potter, Weasley, and Granger. Or rather, everyone else stepped backwards (Neville Longbottom actually ducked underneath a rock), while they were the only ones left standing in the front.

"Now, firs' things firs' – Hippogriffs are extremely proud creatures – don' ever insul' one because it may very well be the las' thing yeh do."

Artemis regarded the sharp beak and talons warily. What Hagrid had just said was definitely not out of the question.

"Yeh have ta' wait for the Hippogriff to make the firs' move," Hagrid continued. "Walk up, bow, and wai'. If he bows back, then tha' means he likes you enough and you can go up an' touch 'im. If not, then get outta there quick because those talons hurt. Righ', who wants a go? Harry, how about you?"

"Of course he'd pick Potter," Draco hissed.

Once again, Artemis raised an eyebrow at his friend, who had been acting unusually distant and spiteful since the train ride. Why would Draco seem so angry? Artemis, for one, wasn't at all jealous of Harry Potter. He had no intention of going near any of the Hippogriffs or their obviously extremely dangerous talons, and certainly had even less reason for being at the center of attention.

Even Potter himself did not look very happy to be up there. Despite the reputation of the boy's House, he did not look very confident; in fact, he seemed like he was about to be ill. But he went up anyway, so Artemis supposed that it was the conquering of the fear that counted.

Artemis was sure that Draco, being an intelligent individual, thought the same way. Being spiteful for something as little as that - it didn't seem like his style. That would be completely illogical and a waste of time and energy, neither of which suited the ambitious yet efficient mindset of the Slytherins well.

Maybe Draco was simply in a bad mood (for a few days now) and was taking out his stress in easily ignorable ways. That had to be it. School couldn't be a problem because the mood had begun before they even got off the train, and besides, third year had barely started. Draco wasn't so stupid that he could already be struggling with homework. Artemis supposed that spending an entire summer back at home with a borderline-reactionary conservative extremist father like Lucius Malfoy and an overprotective mother like Narcissa Malfoy would put anyone in a bad mood. Artemis decided to let it go for now, and wait for his friend to simmer down and figure things out for himself. Intervening right now would only be considered an intrusion of privacy and make things worse. Artemis estimated that his friend would be back to normal in a few weeks or so.

"Righ', now bow to 'im. Go on, 'arry, don' be afraid."

Potter did as he was told.

"Try not to blink – they don' 'preciate tha' much; it looks suspicious if yeh blink too much."

Finally, the Hippogriff bowed in response. Most of the crowd let out a relieved sigh, though some of the Slytherins looked rather disappointed, having expected a more exciting spectacle.

"Well done, Harry, well done! Go on – pet his beak now." Harry cautiously extended a hand and patted the Hippogriff's beak. Some of the Gryffindors were cheering.

"Yeh know, I think he might let you ride 'im now!" Hagrid exclaimed happily.

Potter froze. "Wait, what? I don't – nonononono - !"

But Hagrid did not hear his protests, and the massive man had already picked him up as easily as if he was a carrying a sack of potatoes. He deposited Harry on the Hippogriff's back, just behind the wing joint, and slapped the creature's rump. It took off as gracefully as a real eagle, and soared around the paddock, before landing back at the clearing.

"Righ', who else wants a go?"

Many of the Gryffindors, as well as Theodore, hurried up and divided into lines around the other Hippogriffs that had been tethered to the trees. Artemis, on the other hand, kept his feet planted firmly on the ground.

The fun ended, though, when the perpetually nervous Neville Longbottom had been pushed forward by his friends to try. He was shaking too much, and obviously, the Hippogriff he had approached did not appreciate it. The clumsy boy had failed to get out of the way quickly enough when it had lashed out in annoyance, and fell back, his arm bleeding. He was desperately trying to hold in tears, and failing, as some obvious glittering trails ran down his cheek.

"Righ' now, up you get –" Hagrid said, quite flustered.

They watched as Neville was ushed up to the hospital wing. "Reminds you of our first flying lesson, doesn't it?"

"It's always him getting hurt," Granger said. "I feel so bad for him. He's always trying so hard to please his grandma, but keeps messing up because of his bad case of nerves."

"Maybe if he actually mans up for once," Draco said, "he could be an _actual_ Gryffindork."

"Neville's twice the person you are, Malfoy," Weasley retorted.

"Yeah, whatever. Honestly, I don't know what that oaf was thinking," Draco muttered. "That thing has four X's in the Ministry classification. With Longbottom, you have to multiply that by five – he can't even handle flobberworms in Potions correctly."

* * *

On the bright side, Potions, as usual, was quite amusing, with Professor Snape intimidating Neville Longbottom and taking points off the Gryffindors, much to their chagrin and the Slytherin's poorly masked glee. This time, it had been from Granger for trying to help Longbottom with his Shrinking Potion.

"Orange," Snape sneered at him. "Didn't I tell you it was supposed to turn green? Does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours?" Longbottom cowered, clutching his bandaged hand.

Draco sniggered cruelly. Artemis shot him a cold look. What was up with him? Immature behavior Artemis could handle, but Draco was gradually pushing the limit.

Hermione raised her hand. "Please, sir, I can help –"

"I didn't remember asking you to show off, Ms. Granger," Snape interrupted. "Longbottom, at the end of class we will feed your potion to that toad that you can never seem to keep track of. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly." The poor boy looked like he was about to burst into tears.

For the rst of class, Hermione kept whispering instructions to him out of the corner of her mouth.

As promised, at the end of class, Professor Snape had everyone gather around and watch as he fed the potion to the toad. To general disappointment of the Slytherins, the Shrinking Potion worked as it was supposed to. Professor Snape seemed rather angry that the toad had not been poisoned.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Ms. Granger. I told you not to help him."

Artemis couldn't help but feel bad for Neville. Despite the respect he had for Professor Snape, the man still had a nasty habit of bullying students that did not live up to his standards. With more bullying, came poorer self-esteem, which led to worse performance, the source of more bullying. It was a vicious cycle that didn't seem as if it would be broken anytime soon.

* * *

As they walked away from the dungeons, Draco overexaggeratedly pretended to faint in front of Potter. Potter and Weasley glared at him again, and Artemis was certain this time that a fight would have broken out had Hermione not stepped in front of the two boys and pushed them away. Artemis waited until they had gone.

"Can you be any more childish?" A bit of humor was fine, but in all seriousness, it was getting old.

"Hey – I don't particularly like Potter, even if we've had a bunch of lovely adventures together," Draco snarked. "Deal with it."

"Now that we've figured out our schedules, when do you think we can start up our club?" Theodore asked, trying to change the subject.

"It depends on how much homework we get on average," Blaise said. "We've already got five worksheets from Arithmancy and it's barely been the first day!" Artemis decided not to mention that he had already finished them in class. They had been quite exhausted at the end of the day, heaped with homework (except for Artemis, of course).

To make matters worse, they also had Astronomy that night. Most of them would be napping.

* * *

Lunch that day was quite eventful – it was full of talk and gossip.

"I could totally get Hagrid dismissed for that last stunt. Bringing Hippogriffs into the class – injuring a student –" Draco said maliciously.

Artemis raised an eyebrow. All right, so Draco had not been the most sociable person lately. He was willing to operate on fair grounds and give Draco the benefit of the doubt - that family problems and such were giving him a hard time. A standoffish attitude was acceptable, given that it only took place temporarily and the time period was short enough so that it didn't get annoying. Even immaturity, Artemis could deal with by ignoring. But this? This was a completely different subject altogether. Rudeness was one thing (Artemis could understand that, as he, too, had been prone to rudeness to those around him when something didn't work out as it should have), but deliberately causing problems for other people out of prejudice and spite? It wasn't as if doing that would help them at all. Well, maybe a little - they wouldn't have to deal with whatever Hagrid was going to come up with next - but that wasn't the point. "Why do you hate him so much?"

"I can hate whoever I want, Fowl, so back off!"

Artemis felt his temper growing thin. Maybe waiting had not been the best idea, if Draco was just going to turn on him next. It seemed a direct confrontation was necessary. "What is wrong with you? Did your father pass on his bad mood to you over the summer or what?" he snapped, offended.

All right, so maybe that had not been the best way to go about it. Judging from Draco's expression, it seemed the other wasn't too happy - in fact, he seemed even less happy than before. However, Artemis felt it was justified, because Draco's bad attitude was contagious - already, he could see that it was rubbing off on Blaise and Theodore, too (though the latter was too polite to make a big fuss about it despite his hurt feelings). He readied himself for a nasty response.

Before Draco could reply, however, another exciting piece of gossip was thrown out.

"Black's been sighted!"

"What? How?"

One of the older girls tossed a copy of the _Daily Prophet _at them. "Some Muggle saw him and phoned the telephone hot-line. They've posted notices on him out in the Muggle world too because he murdered twelve of them. By the time the Ministry got there, though, he was gone."

"How far is 'not far from here'?" Artemis asked, peering at the paper over Draco's shoulder.

"It doesn't say. Just outside of Hogsmeade, really, but that could be anywhere," Theodore said, skimming the article. "Still, that's pretty scary – he's practically in our backyard!"

"There's Dementors all around the walls, though. He can't get in, can he?" Blaise asked.

"That is why I am worried," Artemis said. "Dementors are staged around the school, but what about under it? Hogwarts is a medieval castle, built during the times of feudal warfare. Witches and wizards would have probably made secret passages in and out in case the main entrance was blocked under siege. Black went to school here – he probably would have found out about at least one during his stay. It's probably why he's in Hogsmeade – I assume most of the secret passages lead there."

"How is he going to get in without being noticed, though? Even if he sneaks in at night when everyone's asleep, there would be a few paintings still awake and a bunch of ghosts wandering around," Blaise pointed out.

"He escaped from Azkaban, past all of those Dementor guards, didn't he? Black's probably used to crawling about unnoticed," Theodore mused.

Blaise gave Theodore a look. "Dementors are _blind_, though. As we've said before."

Theodore shrugged. "They probably sensed him, and mistook him for someone else."

Artemis tapped his chin. "Now how would that be possible?"

"He...disguised himself?" Theodore said. "I don't mean like Polyjuice potion or whatever; I _know _that won't fool a blind Dementor. But maybe he learned to mask his presence and snuck past the Dementors around here the same way he snuck past them when he escaped from Azkaban. And besides, since he's already been in prison for so long, the Dementors' effects won't be as strong against him because he's already used to it. In fact, he's probably figured a way around it. Which was how he managed to escape in the first place."

Artemis pondered Theodore's theory. When one thought about it, it made sense. It could very well be that Black managed to discover a new way to avoid and trick Dementors, one that no one had thought of yet. They had to keep an open mind - after all, nothing was impossible, not even escape from Azkaban, as Black had proven. New things were coming into being every day.

Theodore was an extremely intelligent and thoughtful strategist despite his airheaded nature. That would have answered everyone's question since first year - how did a kid like him get into the dark and gloomy Slytherin House, of all places.

"If that's the case..." Artemis said, "then we have to make sure to be on our guards. Even more so this year. If Black has avoided the Dementors using the unknown method proposed by Theodore twice already, then there's nothing stopping him from doing it again and again. And as he has gone to Hogwarts, he probably already has ideas of how to sneak in, from memories of his school days."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

Lunch ended on a gloomy note.

* * *

...As predicted, the Astronomy Tower was littered with dozing students and incorrectly calibrated telescopes.

"Look, Draco, it's you," Theodore said.

"Wha'?" the other murmured sleepily.

"See – _Draco_," Theodore said, pointing to the constellation map, giggling madly.

"Shut it," Draco said, rolling over and closing his eyes.

Their argument from lunch had not been forgotten, but Artemis decided to let it go for now. Draco was probably too exhausted by now to argue, anyway. In fact, he seemed more like his normal self right now, which only confused Artemis further. It was as if he was expending energy and effort to acting like a spoiled, childish brat on _purpose._

The night was cold – but not because of the season. In the distance, they could see the shadows of the Dementors floating around the castle. They left a foggy frost in their tracks.

"Gee, they're pretty serious about the entire Black issue, huh?" Blaise murmured.

"Well, it would makes sense. A crazy lunatic on the run from the government, trying to kill Potter – of course they'd be worried."

"Even worse, though, is the fact that Potter doesn't know the full story yet," Artemis responded.

"Should we tell him?"

"No, he'd probably get mad and run after him trying to get revenge or something."

"Sounds like something he'd do."

"He's bound to find out eventually," Theodore pointed out. "With everyone talking and gossiping, anyway."

"But when it happens, what will be our involvement in the matter?"

No one answered him.

* * *

**A/N: The timeline is slightly different from the one in the actual book because it's easier for me to write the Defense class in its own chapter since it's actually quite significant. Don't worry – the boys will have fun with Lupin tomorrow. (Well, next time I update, but tomorrow in the story.)  
**


	4. The Boggart

"We've got Defense next."

"Let's hope this first lesson goes better than Lockhart's first lesson."

"Not that one could do any worse."

"Don't jinx us."

They headed down the corridor to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom with Professor Lupin. Upon entering, they saw the crowd of their fellow Slytherins standing in the center of the room, with all of the desks and chairs pushed to the side. There was a wardrobe standing in the middle. The piece of furniture shook and wobbled, like something was trapped in there and wanted to get out.

"Let's hope it's not Cornish pixies," Blaise muttered.

Lupin was standing there with a smile on his face – his clothes were still rather ragged, although they looked slightly better than the robes he wore on the first day.

"Welcome, class. I see that everyone is here. We will be having a more practical application today. Now, in that wardrobe, is a Boggart. Can anyone tell me what a Boggart is? Yes, Mr. Fowl, is it?"

"A Boggart takes the shape of one's greatest fear," said Artemis.

Lupin clapped his hand. "Absolutely correct! Five points to Slytherin. Now, we have a distinct advantage over this particular Boggart. Can anyone tell me why?"

Artemis raised his hand again. "Since we are fighting it in a large group, it will not be able to decide what form it should take."

"Correct. Five more points to Slytherin. As one can see, it is best to have company when dealing with a Boggart – it becomes confused. I once witnessed one try to take on the form of a severed hand and a rat at the same time – not even remotely frightening. Now, the charm to repel a Boggart is relatively simple; repeat after me first: Riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus." The mumbling Slytherins were obviously not quite as verbal as yesterday's Gryffindor class, but Lupin did not seem to mind. He kept up his cheerful, fatherly appearance quite well, despite his tattered clothes.

"This class is ridiculous," Draco muttered. He obviously was not very pleased with the new teacher.

"Why are you always so prejudiced? Did your father teach you that a teacher who can't dress well can't perform spells, either?" Artemis hissed.

Lupin continued speaking, their conversation having gone unheard. "Very good! The trick in defeating a Boggart is humor. This charm helps you force it to take on a shape that you find amusing. I want you all to concentrate on your greatest fear, and think of a way to make it funny."

Artemis' mind went blank. What was his greatest fear? Losing all of his gold? Discovery of his secrets? How was he going to make _that _funny? It was a practical lesson – they were going to have to face the Boggart in front of the entire class. He was not very keen on showing his fears to the world. Surreptitiously, he edged to the back of the crowd.

"Who would like to go first? Mr. Zabini, how about you?"

Blaise shrugged, then stepped up in a "Why not?" fashion. "Do you have your greatest fear?"

"Clowns," he said, to general amusement. "What?" he snapped, whirling around. "They're freaking creepy!"

Draco was still snickering into his palm.

Lupin smiled. "I don't blame you, Mr. Zabini. We all have different tastes. But don't think about how much you fear clowns, now; rather, think about how you can make him funny. Concentrate on that. I will release the Boggart, and you will point your wand at it and simply say the incantation I just taught you," Lupin said. "Ready? One – two – three!" He pointed his wand at the door of the wardrobe, and it sprang open.

There was a brilliant swirl of color, and a CRACK, and a tall, extravagantly dressed clown appeared in front of them.

"Riddikulus!" Blaise yelled. Suddenly, the clown's makeup melted away…revealing Lockhart's face. Everyone was laughing, and the Boggart looked around, confused. (Though that was Lockhart's usual expression, or at least when he wasn't trying to act like the was the greatest thing on earth since oxygen, anyway.)

"Millicent, you next!" A rather large, female-looking version of Vincent Crabbe stepped up. Her greatest fear turned out to be a disembodied head, which she made explode.

One by one, each member in the class went up. Artemis, however, lingered at the back of the line, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. It would be his turn, soon.

Theodore Nott's Boggart was the bloodied and beaten up body of his father.

"R-riddikulus!" There was another _crack_, and the corpse fell apart – it was a plastic mannequin.

Draco, not very surprisingly, had to face a troll, which he knocked out with its own club.

The class went up one by one against the Boggart.

Lupin only smiled serenely. "The point of this class is not to boast your fears, but to face them." It made sense – Lupin was actually not that bad. If the rest of his lessons were this good, then he should have no trouble gaining the respect of all of the students, considering the fact that they had begun the year with low expectations of him based on past experiences with their previous Defense teachers. Artemis was quite impressed. This was a perfect first lesson - simple in concept, but psychologically stimulating - perfect for getting a group of children into the right mindset for the rest of the year.

Still, a part of Artemis did not want everyone to see his greatest fear - whatever it was.

Soon, it was Pansy Parkinson's turn – the person standing in front of Artemis. He was going to be next. He hardly paid attention to her Boggart; rather, he was more concentrated on what he was supposed to do for his.

Before he knew it, though, Lupin clapped his hands, pushed the Boggart back into the wardrobe, and announced that class was over.

_What just happened? He skipped me. Not that I mind, but it is strange. I suppose I could always find one later for myself and train alone, because this is a very important lesson.  
_

Artemis shrugged and walked out with the rest of his House.

* * *

"Hey, Artemis?"

Artemis looked at Theodore. "Yes?"

"Why do you think he didn't have you fight the Boggart?"

Artemis looked away. "I do not know. I suppose that I shall have to ask later. Now, however, I must catch up on some homework for History – Professor Binns has just assigned a three-foot-long essay on yet another goblin rebellion."

"Oh, yeah, I have to do that, too," Blaise said absentmindedly. He was still joking about the clown Boggart and Lockhart. "It's not as if I changed much. I mean, that guy _is _a complete fool, and his clothes are so flaming ridiculous that he might as well splash on some makeup to compliment it."

* * *

They encountered Potter and his friends in the library. The Slytherin boys sat off to one table, but Artemis decided to sit with Potter to ask him more on Lupin.

"What do you think of our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor?" he asked.

"Do we even need to say anything?" Weasley said. "He's bloody amazing! Lupin's definitely the best teacher we've had in ages!"

"I agree with Ron," Harry said. "I'm actually looking forward to Defense classes this year. He didn't let me tackle the Boggart, though. He was afraid that Voldemort would appear."

"Do you fear Voldemort?" Artemis asked. Was that why Lupin had not given him a chance to fight Voldemort, either? Because he had thought that Artemis' worst fear was Voldemort? That would have been completely false – Voldemort may have been a dangerous wizard, but he felt neither charisma nor intimidation from the man – disgust, absolutely – but nothing more extreme than that.

"Kind of. But not as much as that thing on the train. The Dementor," Potter confessed. "I hate them…they're worse on me than everyone else because apparently I have more traumatic memories."

"He didn't let me try, either," Hermione said. "But I have no idea why."

"How odd. I was not given a chance to 'face my greatest fear,' either."

"Maybe we should ask him together," Hermione suggested.

No. No. Just – no. He wasn't going to have Lupin explain his ideas about Artemis' greatest fear in front of another person.

"Perhaps next time. I have an essay on goblin rebellions to work on," Artemis said.

"Oh, me too," Hermione said. He wasn't going to be able to get rid of her, was he? "See, in 914 A.D…"

At least Hermione was smart.

* * *

From that point on, Defense grew to be everyone's favorite class – though Draco still stuck to Potions. He grudgingly admitted through constant badgering from Blaise that yes, Lupin was a good teacher, but he was more used to Professor Snape.

They still spent some time in the dungeons with the Potions Master, as a matter of fact, but the meetings were becoming less common because they were no longer so necessary now that they had a competent teacher for once. Also, their mounds of homework had drastically increased due to their new elective courses.

Ancient Runes had been quite easy for Artemis, who was already naturally used to foreign languages, but now, their teacher was piling on more and more homework. The translations were easy enough, but also extremely tedious. Occasionally, Artemis would also come across a new symbol, and he would have to look it up. He had transcribed the entire textbook into his magically-powered laptop to make things go faster, but the work was still very time-consuming.

Arithmancy, on the other hand, was the equivalent of mathematics for wizards. The only problem was that the math that Artemis was used to – multivariable calculus, linear algebra, et cetera, had nothing to do with the subject. Muggle sciences were an exact thing, but when magic was added, new twists would appear, completely skewing his normal idea of how even basic arithmetic was supposed to work. The closest thing that he could compare to Arithmancy was Number Theory.

To make the time pass more quickly, he decided to do his homework in the library with Hermione. She was an efficient worker when it came to studies; while she did not approve of copying, she ended up giving out a lot of answers unintentionally. Artemis wrote them down, of course, to save time, and repaid her by giving out a few answers of his own. True, he could look up who discovered that 7 was the most magically powerful number, and why 42 was the most versatile (and it was not because _A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy _said so) all by himself, but he could also use the time that he spent finding the answers to research Riddle's diary if he accepted Hermione's…help.

He noticed more papers sticking out from underneath her many books. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to a worksheet on Muggle electronics.

"Muggle Studies homework," she said.

_Wait – what? _"Why are you taking Muggle Studies? You're Muggle-born!"

"It's interesting to learn about them from the magical point of view," Hermione said. A thought struck Artemis.

"How are you taking a third elective course?"

"The teachers let me," she said, vaguely.

Now that she mentioned it, Hermione looked constantly tired. Her back was bent from carrying so many papers, and her hair was more frizzy than usual – she obviously hadn't slept well. Taking a peek at her other papers, he saw that she had also enrolled in Divination.

"How are you going to fit every single possible elective into your schedule?" he asked incredulously. "Isn't Runes and Divination at the same time?"

"Yeah. Oh, look at the time – I have to run, bye!"

She scurried off.

"That's a strange girl you got there, Fowl," Marcus Flint yelled at him from across the library (the Quidditch captain actually frequented libraries? It was the end of the world!), much to Madam Pince's annoyance.

Strange indeed.

* * *

**A/N: For those of you who are curious about Artemis' Boggart, don't worry. You'll get to find out what it is exactly later in this book. And according to the Harry Potter wikia, Lupin didn't let Hermione and Harry face the Boggart in the book because they correctly answered those questions he asked the class beforehand. So I'm just using this same reason for Artemis not being allowed to face the Boggart. Lupin doesn't really know Artemis that well yet, after all, so he doesn't have a specific reason.**


	5. Black Sighted

_Slytherin Dormitories_

"Wake up, guys!" Theodore said cheerfully.

Artemis groaned and rolled over. Last night's Astronomy lesson had run late, and he was exhausted. Though used to working late and dealing with little sleep, Artemis was like any other human being (quite unfortunately) in the fact that he needed the proper amount of rest in order for his brain to function well.

Checking the time, he realized that it was already seven o'clock – two hours later than he normally woke up. Rubbing his eyes sleepily, he eased himself out of bed and winced when his bare feet came in contact with the cold dungeon air.

"I hate morning people," Blaise moaned. "Why don't you come back around noon, when most reasonable people would wake up. Honestly, Theo."

"I'm not a morning person!" Theodore protested excitedly. "It's our first Hogsmeade weekend! Get up!" He deliberately bounced several times on Blaise's bed, before he slipped and landed right on top of Blaise's lumpy form underneath the covers.

"OW!"

Oh. Right. Artemis hurriedly pulled on his socks and slippers and got dressed. He was actually rather excited to see Hogsmeade – the only purely wizard city left in Great Britain. If only the founders had a better taste in names. Hopefully Sirius Black would be sleeping in today, even though he was anything but a reasonable person.

* * *

_Hogsmeade_

As they were walking off the stop, they noticed Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley.

"Where did Potter go?" Blaise asked.

"Before we left, our permission slips were checked by Professor McGonagall. His Muggle relatives didn't sign the permission slip for him. They don't like him much. Anyway, Professor McGonagall wouldn't let him go," said Ron.

"We're going to Honeydukes to get him some sweets," Hermione interrupted, changing the topic. "Do you guys want to come?"

"I don't see why not," Theodore said.

Artemis didn't care much for Honeydukes, but while there, he bought a small bar of chocolate anyway to help against the Dementors.

"Is that all you're getting?" Blaise asked. His arms were full of sweets - he had everything from ginger snaps and lollipops to jam tarts and candied nuts.

Artemis _hated _lollipops and couldn't understand why the nasty things existed in the first place. They were sorry excuses to charge people extra money for sugar - because, clearly, adding food coloring and artificial flavoring to pure sugar syrup on a stick warranted more than quadrupling the regular sum of the prices for raw materials. Even the _name _was annoying – he couldn't even say the word without grimacing. Why people still liked them enough to waste so much money buying them and keeping their devilish manufacturers in business was a mystery. It was almost as if they existed solely for the purpose of irking the living daylights out of Artemis. And another reason why he hated lollipops - they were so detestable that he felt compelled to waste precious time mulling over how much he hated them. In fact, Artemis could probably waste the entire chapter ranting about how terrible lollipops were, and why all the lollipops in the world should be destroyed in a great flaming bonfire of blaze and glory, and how that would be physically feasible (_reference: The Journals of Artemis Fowl II, Volume 5: entry: May 17th_). However, out of respect for my readers, and also because doing so would be a counter-intuitive waste of time, I have omitted this part of his biography, and instead included an abridged excerpt from the above reference in a separate note, for those of you seeking extra amusement.

"You're getting all that?" Artemis retorted.

"Touché."

Theodore looked at him. While he was not buying as much as Blaise, he had purchased a fairly decent amount of candy as well. "Are you just that stingy, or are you anorexic?"

Artemis glared at him. "I just dislike sugar. The chocolate is for the Dementors."

Blaise's eyes went wide. "Are you serious? Who in the world could ever dislike sugar?"

"It makes me ill," Artemis explained, with an exaggerated sigh.

"But you're so skinny already," Theodore teased, poking him in the ribs. Artemis swatted his arms away. "Are you sure you're not anorexic?"

"Just because I choose to eat regularly at meals instead of taking all of my reserve energy from junk food does not mean I am anorexic, _Mother_," he snapped. He wasn't _that_ skinny - all right, maybe his muscles could use a little work (Butler had been telling him that since he was a child) and he had a lower-than-average percent body fat, but he wasn't some starving child in Africa. He would live perfectly well on what he had, currently. It wasn't as if he could be compared to the other boys at Hogwarts - all of them were a bit on the slim side, save for Crabbe, Goyle, and Neville Longbottom.

"I bet you I can wrap this strand of licorice around your waist," Blaise teased.

"I bet _you_ I can wrap that strand of licorice around Crabbe and Goyle's waists, too, you greedy pig," Artemis pointed out. It had to be three feet long, at least.

"Point taken." Blaise shook his head. "You don't need that chocolate against the Dementors - you're perfectly safe from them. Anyone who doesn't like sugar has no soul."

Ron and Hermione peered around the shelves. "What has no soul?" the redhead demanded.

"He does!" Blaise said accusingly, pointing a finger at Artemis. "He doesn't like sugar!"

"You _don't_?" Weasley asked, horror-struck.

"Here we go again," Artemis muttered. "It gives me slight nausea," he explained.

Weasley shook his head. "I'll never understand you, Fowl, you know that?"

He and Granger had bought one of everything in the store. "We're sharing with Harry," she said, explaining their large purchase, "since he can't go. Artemis, are you sure you're only buying that?"

"Quite sure. I'll be fine, honestly."

"There's roasted nuts and sugarless mints in the back," Granger said. "You should have a look at those."

"Maybe later. I would prefer some tea at the Three Broomsticks right now."

The trip had been rather enjoyable. Potter _was _missing out. Artemis supposed, though, that after a few years, when they had exhausted the attractions that the small town had to offer, it would get boring. Artemis noted with amusement that the Weasley twins could probably work at Zonko's Joke Shop one day. They would love it.

"Us? Zonko's?" they said, feigning shock.

"I think that we'd - "

" - go a little above and beyond that."

"Thanks for asking, though."

"Want a sweet?"

They offered Artemis a little pastry. He looked at it. Even without performing any diagnostic spells on it, it was quite obvious that something seemed off. "Nice try."

They sighed. "Slytherins - "

" - far too untrusting."

"They probably hexed it to turn your hair red," Blaise said in a mockingly dreamy tone. "Or turn you into a bird."

Artemis mentally slapped himself at his friend's awful pun.

As they walked away from the shop, they ran into Draco. "Associating with Mudbloods, aren't you?"

They stared at him, shocked. "What is wrong with you? You never had a problem with Granger before..." Theodore said.

"Does it look like I care?" Draco walked off.

"That doesn't even make sense," Blaise said. "Please don't tell me that he's are actually going back to listening to his father. What did he do over the summer, anyway?"

"Maybe he has to get it out of his system. I mean, we all know Lucius Malfoy isn't exactly the nicest guy," Theodore pointed out.

"I've been meaning to confront him about his behavior, but I honestly don't know when," Artemis confessed. "I need an opportune time when everyone else is gone so that what I say will actually stick. All the same, we must keep an eye on him before things get too out of hand, like that incident with the troll back in first year. I have a feeling that we may have to have a long talk with him later."

* * *

"Professor?"

It had been a somewhat quiet week; the boys chose to spend their free time back in the dungeons with Professor Snape. Lupin had, admittedly, been a good teacher despite his shabby outward appearance - and Professor Snape was clearly miffed about this, having missed out on the Defense Against the Dark Arts post yet again. For some reason, Draco was not there.

"Probably thinks he's too good for us," Blaise sniffed. "We're all the sort high-class purebloods his Daddy dearest 'approves of', aren't we? What's gotten to him?"

"His father probably wanted him to stay away from us since I've 'poisoned' you with 'blood-traitor ideals'," Artemis said.

"That's ridiculous."

"Excuse me?" Professor Snape had just walked out of his store room with a large stack of papers.

"I want to learn about the Dementors," Artemis said, changing the subject. Professor Snape seemed extremely stressed, as of late, and Artemis didn't think that knowledge of one of his students misbehaving would help. Taking such an insignificant subject all the way up to their Head of House would only hinder the efficiency Slytherin House was so famous for. "I believe that there is a spell called a Patronus to block it, am I right?"

"That is correct, Mr. Fowl. It's a very advanced spell, however."

"That's what you said about nonverbal magic," Blaise complained. "At least teach us this one, in case we ever 'run afoul' of one of those Dementors always lurking about outside of the castle."

Professor Snape sighed. "It's a rather tricky spell to master. Basically, a Patronus is a projection of your happy thoughts, but it also wards away Dementors since it cannot feel despair. Each wizard's Patronus is unique, although some wizards may share the same Patronus or change their own after facing a traumatic experience."

"How do you make one?"

"The trick is to think of an extremely powerful, happy memory while you say the incantation. It's hard enough to conjure a Patronus under normal circumstances; it's even tricker with a Dementor sapping away all of your happiness."

"What's the incantation?" Theodore asked. "Can't you at least tell us now, so we can practice?"

The Potions Master rubbed his forehead. "I suppose it can't hurt to teach you. It's _Expecto Patronum._"

"Expecto Patronum!" Blaise cried. Nothing happened.

"You must lose yourself in the memory, Mr. Zabini. Merely having it floating around will do you no good."

"Expecto Patronum!" he tried again. This time, he managed to create a wispy, silver smoke before it dissipated. "It's a start," Professor Snape said. "But not in my dungeon, boys: I have work to grade."

The boys obediently left the man alone.

"What's bugging _him_?" Blaise asked, still annoyed at being chased out. "First Draco, and now Professor Snape? The first quarter isn't even over yet and things are already starting to suck."

Artemis shrugged. "He hates Lupin. Finally, a competent Defense teacher at whom he can't exactly laugh at."

* * *

A happy memory that he could lose himself in. A happy memory that he could lose himself in.

Artemis thought and thought.

* * *

They were currently in the Slytherin common rooms. Suddenly, one of the Prefects came charging in.

"Everyone report to the Great Hall immediately. Sirius Black has been sighted in Hogwarts."

Immediately, the common room exploded into a cacophony of discussion.

"What? How?"

"Are we going to die?"

"I knew those stupid Dementors were useless!"

"Where's Professor Snape?"

"If he gets rid of Potter, maybe we can win the Cup again this year."

"Oh my gosh, who said that?"

"_Enough_," Professor Snape snarled, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. A very helpful skill, whenever one wanted to regain control over a large group of rowdy, excited teenagers. Having a big, epicly billowing cloak also helps, too. "Everyone, you heard him. To the Great Hall immediately."

The real story was leaked once they arrived. Sirius Black had somehow found his way into the castle, and demanded to be allowed into the Gryffindor dormitories. When the portrait of the Fat Lady refused, he slashed her picture with a knife. She was now hiding…somewhere, and had been replaced by Sir Cadogan.

Artemis was not too concerned about what had become of the Gryffindor dorms. What he _was_ worried about was the fact that Black had, true to his predictions, successfully gained entrance to the castle without running into a single Dementor. If there was a way in…there would be a way out.

As a result of the attack, all students now had to sleep in the Great Hall while the teachers investigated the entire incident.

"Pssst. Artemis," Blaise whispered. "You're a genius. If the attack was during the day, when Harry would have been in classes, why did Black go after the Gryffindor dorms?"

"Perhaps he wanted to wait there for Potter. Who knows how the mind of a madman works," Artemis said. _Though Blaise does have a good point. The circumstances are awfully suspicious._

"Maybe he was looking for something else of importance," Theodore suggested.

"Lights out, everybody!" Percy Weasley, Prefect and Head Boy (also known as Humongous Bighead, courtesy of his brothers Fred and George, something Artemis agreed to wholeheartedly), ordered loudly.

Still, some whispering persisted. "Quiet!" he yelled obnoxiously.

The lights faded, and everyone went to sleep.

That night, Artemis dreamed – only it was not a dream, but a memory.

* * *

_Captain Short and the Commander eventually came up, dragging Butler and another man, still in Butler's arms. Butler set him down on the ground. Artemis jumped up and ran over. One second he was this scheming intellectual, and the next – he was just a kid. A kid who had lost his father, found him, and saved him._

"_Is he alive?" he asked calmly, trying to regain his composure, but obviously failing._

"_Ugly, yes, but alive," Captain Short said. _

"_He's been tortured and beaten," the Butler said, checking the man's vitals. "For information."_

_Artemis was silent, slowly taking in the form of his father. The sun was rising over the bay now – the night had been especially brief, given that it was summertime in the Arctic. The arriving light, if anything, sharpened his father's injuries. _

"_But he didn't say anything," Artemis said. "He was brave. He cared about…whatever the information was, so much that he sustained their brutality for nearly two years without giving up –" he choked on his own voice. _

_His father was alive. His father was alive. He had given up nearly everything for him, but he was alive._

_It was almost a minute before he stopped crying._

* * *

**A/N: I apologize for the short chapter. The extra, on why Artemis Fowl II hates lollipops, is posted on my profile.  
**


	6. Confrontation

That morning, the third-years walked into Lupin's class, only to see their Potions professor standing at the front of the room. "Open your books to page 324," he snarled.

"Excuse me, sir?" Potter asked. "Where's Professor Lupin?"

Professor Snape snapped, "Professor Lupin is currently unfit to teach. Now, do as I say, Mr. Potter, and open your book to the specified page."

Draco was silently sniggering and began to make faces at the Gryffindors, leading to Potter and Weasley seeming ready to pounce on him. Truly, a very bad idea, as Professor Snape hated them already. Luckily, the end of the Gryffindors' bench that was facing the Slytherins was occupied by Granger, who was smart enough to be a good student and _not _start a fight while class was in session. With her in the way, Potter and Weasley could not physically access Draco, and thus had to resort to dirty looks and glowering to appease their "righteous anger."

Sighing, Artemis surreptitiously kicked Draco under the table and looked away innocently. The reaction was immediate – Draco stopped teasing the Gryffindors and turned his attentions on Artemis instead. Good. Had he gone on for a second longer, Potter and Weasley _would _have attempted to hurt him right there and then, the fact that they would have had to awkwardly climb over Granger to make this possible notwithstanding.

In any event, if this immature action could deal with the other boy without causing a noisy, attention-attracting commotion, so be it. Ignoring Draco's glare and retaliation kick (which was mildly painful, but Artemis would be the adult here and be content with his intended victory of distracting Draco from instigating the Gryffindors any further instead of starting a revenge war) he turned to the page.

"Werewolves?"

"But sir," Granger protested, raising her hand, "We've only just discussed Hinkypunks yesterday."

"According to my standards, this class is very behind in dealing with Dark creatures," Professor Snape growled. "Now, unless you want me to take off points, please read the chapter and write me an essay on the qualities of a werewolf and how to distinguish them."

Artemis, being a rather fast reader, finished his homework in class and spent the rest of the time thinking. Professor Snape seemed to hate Lupin even more than the other Defense teachers, which was odd…this could not be just the result of jealousy. There had to be a deeper reason. Maybe they had met before in the past, and Professor Snape was now harboring an old grudge? It wasn't impossible; Hogwarts was pretty much the only magical school in the British Isles, so anyone within the same generation had a high chance of being classmates.

Still, why would Professor Snape choose to scrap all of Lupin's lesson plans for an excuse as paper thin as the class being "behind"? Surely, there had to be another reason besides merely spiting Lupin.

Artemis immediately began forming theories, but without any more data he could not fall on any of them. As of now, the only definite thing was that the tension would only get worse – and Artemis definitely did not want to be there when the metaphorical string finally snapped.

* * *

Rain poured down on them in torrents, but the Quidditch match still continued.

It was between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff – and the Slytherins didn't know who to cheer for. Obviously, many of them hated their scarlet-clad rivals, but their opponents were not exactly the best fighters, either.

To be honest, Artemis thought that House rivalries were getting rather tiring. If he had been the cheering type (which he wasn't – he held little interest in spectator gatherings that involved people running around in an extremely unsafe environment for the amusement of the general populace), he would have supported the ones with the better chance of winning. It was as simple as that. Another reason why Artemis disliked prejudice – it got in the way of good, cold logic.

"Maybe Dementors will fly onto the field and give the Puffers a chance," Draco said to Pansy Parkinson, who giggled.

_That's it,_ Artemis thought. Draco was going too far. Teasing, goading, and generally being stupid was forgivable.

Actually wishing harm on another person – and serious harm, too – was not.

Even if Dementors didn't try to steal any souls, didn't Draco realize that Potter was flying hundreds of feet above the ground? The force due to gravitational acceleration from that height would be enough to break _anyone's _neck, magic or not.

He poked Draco on the shoulder. When the other turned around, he roughly yanked him off the bench and dragged him inside. With the entire school at the game and the hallways mostly abandoned, they could cause as much of a scene as they wanted.

* * *

Arriving in an abandoned corridor, Artemis let go of Draco's sleeve and turned to face him, barely reeling in his temper. (What? Did you think Artemis was going to punch him or push him against the wall or something? He's too refined for that. Also, Artemis was intelligent enough to know that if this turned into a physical confrontation, he would lose. Miserably.)

"What is wrong with you? Spit it out; you have been acting like a complete nightmare for these past few weeks," Artemis snarled.

"I don't have to tell you _anything_, Fowl!" Draco snapped.

"At least tell me this much, then! You owe me your _life_," Artemis hissed, becoming more and more frustrated by the second. "Why are you so ungrateful? Did your father give you some entire speech about your superiority _again_? You should know better than to listen to him by now!"

Draco moved to push Artemis out of the way. "And what if he did? It's none of your business!"

"It _is _my business when you begin to take it out on the people who are trying to be nice to you," Artemis said, stepping to the side and catching Draco by the back of his cloak to keep him from walking away. "Granger's saved your sorry hide in History more times than you can think of, and you still act as though she is below you. Why must you bite the hand that feeds you?"

"Don't talk to me that way! You have no right, you filthy blood-traitor!" Draco shouted.

"Are we really getting back on that topic again? You're more of an ignoramus than I thought," Artemis retorted.

"And _you're _a criminal. A no-good, low-down, thief – just like your father!"

"And _you_ can just go become a Death Eater – like _your _father!"

Artemis realized in horror what he just said. Draco paled – and then his mouth twisted into an ugly scowl.

"You'll pay for this, Fowl!" Draco whipped out his wand and sent an unrecognizable curse at Artemis.

Knowing better than to try to block it, Artemis jumped out of the way. "Petrificus Totalis!"

"Furnunculus!"

"Reducto!"

The duel was slowly escalating. It was not one of the friendly duels that they had experienced in Professor Snape's classroom the previous year – this time it was a real duel, where they fought in earnest for their pride. Not only that, but their spells were getting more and more advanced and dangerous. No average third-year should have been able to perform these curses, but then again, neither Artemis nor Draco were average.

"Eviscera!"

Artemis jumped out of the way. Where would he have learned _that_ curse – oh, yes, _Lucius_.

"Oppugno!"

"Rotegro!"

"Arachnisempra!" Artemis yelled the spell that his mother had taught him. Violet wires sprang out of his wand, like a large spider web, and sent Draco tumbling to the ground. He walked over. "Expelliarmus. You have lost. Now tell me, what is your problem?"

Draco struggled against the wires, but to no avail. "Let me go."

"No."

"I mean it, Artemis!"

"Back to first names, now, aren't we? It's funny how friendly we get when we are at another's mercy. Just tell me now – every person in the school is at that game and no one is going to come in here anytime soon. Tell me – or do I have to force it out of you?" Artemis stared directly into Draco's eyes. He decided against using Legilimency, as tempting and convenient as it seemed to be. It had nothing to do with legal issues, since he could always get around that, but if he was going to reconcile with Draco he needed to establish trust. He did not have to want to put himself into an awkward situation in the future, where he had to explain to Draco where he got all of the information he did.

Draco sighed. "Will you let me go?"

"Only after you tell me why you are being such a – a _prat_." The unfamiliar words rolled off Artemis' tongue, but they had to be said. High-vocabulary insults did not carry the same connotation. He pressed his wand to Draco's throat and narrowed his eyes.

Draco leaned back and closed his eyes, although with the magical binding around him, it was difficult. "My father is extremely angry at your kind, Fowl. I could fill up an entire diary with all of the stuff that's wrong with you. Now leave me alone and stop trying to keep track of me. I have better acquaintances than you and I don't want them to see me with riff-raff like you. If it were possible, you would all be working with Dobby."

Artemis lifted an eyebrow. Draco's speech patterns were different – but only very slightly. Had he been anyone _but _Artemis Fowl II, he would have missed it. But it was there, and it was clearly deliberate. Draco was sending a message.

Artemis' eyes widened as the truth dawned on him. Of course. Lucius _would _be secretly tracking Draco to make sure he behaved the way he was supposed to be after the whole "diary" incident the previous year. That random mention of Dobby – Draco must have pulled some information out of the house-elf. Draco was acting rudely on purpose as to not rouse his own father's suspicions.

At that point, Artemis was glad that he had not used Legilimency – if the tracking methods were magical and could detect the use of magic somehow, he would not only be giving Draco away, but also surrendering dangerous information about himself.

"You know _nothing_," Artemis returned, and barely flicked his wrist just as Draco exaggeratedly twisted his own, so that it looked as if Draco had broken free of the binds by himself.

Draco jumped back up and held his wand to Artemis' face, while confirming the question. "And _you _know nothing else."

Well, that was inconvenient. So Draco only knew that he was being tailed, but not by who or how. It seemed that for the time being, they would have to be as rude as possible to one another. It was either that or distance themselves from one another altogether. At least through verbal spats, they could still interact and communicate their true thoughts somehow – hopefully without the detection of whoever or whatever was watching them.

"Fine," Artemis sniffed. "If that's how you want it, then I have nothing else for you. Just know that next time we meet, it will be nothing but angry words."

* * *

_Later_

"Do you want to go visit Harry?" Granger asked.

"Why? What happened?"

"Weren't you there?"

"I, unfortunately, had some different matters to tend to, so I missed the Quidditch match," Artemis explained.

They set off towards the infirmary.

"During the game, a bunch of Dementors rushed onto the field. There were so many happy spectators at the game, they just couldn't help it. Harry...well, you know how the Dementors affect him...he fell off his broom. Hufflepuff won the game."

"For once," Ron muttered sullenly.

Artemis swallowed. Draco's wish, as jokingly as it had been, had come true. "Is he all right?"

"He's unconscious, but he's alive. He might wake up now," Hermione said.

Lee Jordan, along with the Weasley twins and their younger brother, were clustered around Potter's bed staring expectantly at him. Artemis wondered if they knew how unsettling it would be for the poor boy to wake up and see all of those faces staring down at him. Sure enough, Potter awoke, looked up, and gave a small, frightened yelp.

"You okay, mate?" Weasley asked.

"Yeah. What happened?"

"The Dementors made you fall off your broom," Granger explained. "Dumbledore barely saved you by using a Cushioning Charm to break your fall. Don't worry - he chased them off the field. He was absolutely furious."

"Oh. I guess Hufflepuff won then?"

"Yeah, but don't take it too hard on yourself, Harry," Weasley said. "It was pretty unfair to you anyway."

"Where's my broom?" Potter asked. Of course _he _would be worried about his broom at a time like this.

The boys all shifted and looked uncomfortable. "Ummm..."

"Where's my broom?"

Weasley held out two fragments of twig, held together by a few splinters. "It wasn't my fault, Harry - I swear! When you fell off, the storm blew it into the Whomping Willow...and, well..."

Artemis had never seen the other boy look so crestfallen. Potter sighed. "It's okay, guys. Honest. I can always use a different broom...don't worry about it."

They looked at him. "You sure?"

"Yeah. Positive. It's okay. Really." He was in serious denial.

After a while, they were shooed out by Madam Pomfrey. Artemis remained.

"Hey, Fowl."

"Potter. I hope that you are feeling better," Artemis said, trying to remain cordial.

"Yeah. I'm fine." Potter sank back into his pillow and closed his eyes, moaning slowly. "I hate the Dementors. I wish that I knew how to chase them away. Lupin managed to do it on the train."

"It's called a Patronus Charm," Artemis said. "You should ask Professor Lupin to teach it to you."

Potter visibly brightened up. "Really? You sure?"

"Positive. Although the Dementors' effects are especially adverse towards you, I feel that it is a spell that every student here should learn," Artemis said. He actually meant it, too.

Potter smiled. "Thanks. You're a great person, you know? Really."

Artemis shifted uneasily. No one had ever called him a great person before. "Thank you...I suppose."

"I suppose Malfoy's going to have a field day about this," Potter sighed.

"Actually, no. I had a little talk with him during the game. He might still be a bit of a prat, but I will ensure that his intentions are perfectly benevolent."

The other boy snorted. "Malfoy? Benevolent? Yeah, right."

"Don't judge him too harshly, Potter," Artemis chided. "I know that you have not had the best history, but you must remember that you are not the only one with problems. His father has simply taught him to deal with his anger differently, that's all. Bear with him for some time - he should return to normal. If you remember from last year, he was perfectly capable of being a decent person."

"...I suppose you're right. I'll give him a chance. Just - tell him to stop fainting on me. It's getting really old."

"Ignore him - he'll only think it's old when it stops affecting you."

"It only stops affecting me when the Dementors do."

"Then you better learn how to conjure a Patronus soon."

Harry sighed. "I'll do that."

* * *

**A/N: Please help me come up with a Patronus form for all four Slytherin boys – Artemis, Blaise, Draco, and Theodore. Tell me what form and why you think it's a good idea. (Try not to do anything too predictable like ferrets or snakes – I really don't want to stereotype them.) Note that Patronuses represent something that symbolizes safety or protection to the boys, and while they are mostly the same with their Animagus forms, they can change over time.**

**Also, this time, magical creatures are fine here, because in the Harry Potter world, some wizards had magical creatures as their Patronus, like Dumbledore. Therefore it is not too Mary Sue or Gary Stu or whatever. **

**By the way, the Animagus naming thing is still ongoing, and I have kept a list of all the suggestions you guys gave me. You can send in as many entries as you like, and I will pick what I think is the most fitting for each individual boy. So someone's suggestion for, let's say, Theodore could be chosen, but not the other three. The Patronus can be the same as the Animagus form, but it doesn't have to be. **


	7. We Meet Again, Captain Kelp

_Tap._

_Tap._

_Tap._

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap._

Feeling extremely annoyed, Artemis turned his head to the source of the noise. In the background, in his sleep-inducing monotone, Professor Binns unsuspectingly droned on about a topic that Artemis could care less about, having learned and analyzed everything back in his first year.

Ah. Draco. Artemis raised an eyebrow as he made eye contact. Draco was holding a piece of paper under the table between his fingers. Obviously, a message, but how secure was it? Currently, Draco was sitting on the other side of the bench in an attempt to distance himself from Artemis as a way to lower suspicion, and passing notes was an easy way to get caught – though perhaps not by a teacher as unobservant as Professor Binns.

Before he could react, however, he found the paper in his palm. Opening it, Artemis saw…a very poorly drawn picture accompanied by hate mail.

Or, rather, a secret message disguised as such. It was written with normal ink and paper, so it would not be detected by magical means, and the encryption was admittedly extremely well done, so human spies would be none the wiser.

_When will we find the spies? _

Artemis thought about it – as soon as possible was the best answer, but they had to figure out the safest plan for secrecy first. He sent back a polite, but thinly veiled threat letter – a reasonably in-character reaction to provocation from someone of his caliber. Certain letters which spelled out the true message were written a bit more sloppily than others – which could obviously be attributed to hasty writing, so it would not be easy to accuse him of anything. Even the most advanced spells could not automatically translate something that was already in a readable language. _When convenient. We need more information first._

Only those who truly knew him and his mild obsessive-compulsive level of neatness (which was absolutely not a bad thing as it did not interfere with his life – he was completely capable of poor penmanship if the time called for it) would realize how out-of-character that was.

Back and forth they went. _Dobby says father gets many letters from school owls, so it's probably people, not a spell. Don't know senders, never got to see._

Well, then, another mystery on top of the Black sent a message back. _There still might be non-human trackers also. To be safe, we need to use different communication methods. If people only, Confundus Charm. On everyone if needed. _

A few seconds later, Draco responded. _What about spells?_

Artemis thought about it. _That will be much more difficult. We'll figure something out. Surreptitiously ask teachers._

The reply: _But until we catch the spies I still have to be a jerk. Sorry._

Artemis closed the connection and sighed. He felt slightly bad for the other boy, and was glad that his own father had never been so twisted in his ideals and oppressive in the discipline of his offspring.

* * *

Winter rolled around, but the tension still had not ceased – Sirius Black was still at large. Around this time, the Gryffindors approached Artemis again, though alone this time (they still did not know about Draco) and asked him if he wanted to go to Hogsmeade with them. "Someone has to make sure you eat," they joked.

"Shut it," had been his rather indelicate response, but he consented.

The trip had quickly gotten boring. Excusing himself, he left their group for a little while, claiming he needed some fresh air. He wandered over to the Shrieking Shack – a lonely, rickety house sitting on an isolated hill, surrounded by a wrought-iron fence that was in dire need of repair before it succumbed to the heavy rust. Artemis took into careful consideration the flaking paint, rotting boards, missing shingles, and grimy, cracked windows. If it truly was the most haunted house in Britain, he wouldn't be surprised – it certainly had that look to it.

He leaned on a more steady part of the railing and hoped it didn't fall over. He felt a movement next to him – a ghost, perhaps? No, ghosts were not invisible, just translucent. There was actually a slight, shimmering disturbance in the air, like a heat haze, only it was winter. So, the only possible explanation was –

"You don't have to bother to shield. I know that you're there."

He heard a tiny whisper that sounded strangely like "D'Arvit." The fairy did not lower his shield, in case other people walked by, but asked, "How did you know?"

Artemis grinned. "It's strange how being invisible makes one so blind. Did you really think that someone like me would fail to pay attention to details, such as a heat haze in the middle of winter?"

"Good point."

"Who are you talking to, Artemis?" Granger called. She and Weasley were making their way up the slope.

How terribly inconvenient. Artemis did not show his annoyance, however. He simply smiled and said, "Why, my fairy friends of course. Can't you see them?" he gestured in the opposite direction from the haze. They stared at him like he was crazy.

"I don't see anything…" Weasley said. Granger slapped him.

"He's being sarcastic. Fairies migrate, Ronald – they hate the cold," she said. "The only things left around here are ghosts. And those stupid Dementors, too, but that's a different story."

"Well, _sorry_," Ron grunted.

Artemis grinned. "Don't wait for me. I'm just being Irish."

Granger laughed. "And I thought you didn't have a sense of humor."

"I do, I do. Unfortunately, many of the poor souls in the world find it too elevated for their liking." It was not exactly a lie – Artemis had been extremely surprised when no one understood his various pseudonyms. Seriously – "Dr. F. Roy Dean Schlippe" publishing a book on psychology – that could not have been any more obvious. And yet, even the supposedly greatest minds in the world read that without paying one second thought to the author.

Ron seemed overwhelmed at the onslaught of advanced vocabulary. Hermione stared incredulously at his bemused expression.

"I'm sorry – he's a bit thick today," she told Artemis, sighing.

"Just today?" Artemis asked, trying to suppress an amused grin.

"Are you calling me dumb?" Weasley whined, finally catching on.

Hermione slapped him again. "Ron, if you're even wondering about that it means you're right."

"Huh?" Weasley asked, completely confused, _again._ "Wait a second –"

Artemis sniggered. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Artemis interrupted her, knowing fully well what she was about to say. In any event, there were more pressing matters at hand – he had not forgotten the elf floating next to him.

"There's no need to apologize a second time, Hermione. But I think that both of you have better things to do than stand here and argue with me." At least, that did the trick, for the two immediately spun around and marched back to the main street.

* * *

Once Weasley and Granger were a safe distance away, Artemis turned back to the still fluttering Trouble Kelp. "I apologize for the delay. Now, was there something you wanted?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact."

"I would ask you to resettle into the visible spectrum, but I'm afraid that it would present several difficulties should more people come."

"Quite beating around the bush, Mud Boy, and answer the question."

"Listen, if it's about last summer, I dearly apologize. I was young, greedy, and selfish. At least I returned your precious blueprints – and now, with both of my parents monitoring me, I should not be bothering you again."

"Maybe. But someone _is _bothering the People again. And you're the only possible suspect."

Artemis thought. If a fairy couldn't be a suspect, and they had to track him down, as the only human smart enough to know…

"I presume, then, that a human has been trading with the People?"

"Right you are. Pretty impressive deduction skills you got there – or it would be if both of us didn't know that you were behind it. There are a few people belowground who want a short word with you. Right now."

"I suppose that based on the actions from my previous year, I won't get any consideration?"

"You got that right."

"Aren't you afraid that people will notice me missing?"

"That's why it will be nice and short, Mud Boy. And we've got a team of nice and charged fairies full of _mesmer_ and mind wipes in case you never come back."

Trouble Kelp didn't look like he was joking.

* * *

Artemis awoke in a small, cramped room. _Of all of the interrogation rooms they could choose from in the world…they had to choose this one. They certainly weren't building for comfort. Then again, this was built for fairy-sized captives, not humans._

Root was there, chewing away at a cigar and red in the face. "Right, Fowl. Now spill."

"You wouldn't believe me even if I do say that I'm innocent," Artemis said. It was true. He had no idea what the fairies were angry about…certainly, he had repaid what was due during last summer's little game. How were they going to find out –

"And that's why we have proof," another figure emerged, carrying electrodes and a glass suction cup. It was Foaly, and Artemis did not think he was going to like...whatever the technical genius centaur had in store for him. "Relax, Mud Boy, and this might not hurt…too much." Before Artemis could react, the suction cups had already been rammed over his eyes. _The People wouldn't be too cruel or inefficient to torture for information that they can easily gather by other methods. There must be some sort of sedative in the rubber seal._

The last thing he heard before he blacked out for the second time was "The sedative's in the rubber seal…they never see it coming."

_You wish, Foaly._

* * *

Trouble Kelp had been quite glad that the events from last summer had not exactly put a damper on his career. He was too valuable to the LEP anyway – one crazy Mud Boy was no reason to slap him down.

When Chix Verbil and Grub Kelp had found a bunch of B'wa Kell goblins using softnose lasers equipped with Mud Man batteries, they had nearly gotten themselves killed trying to stop the attack and report it. Trouble may have found his brother annoying, but, as he had always been reminded, he _had _promised Mummy, and, well…In any event, if Fowl had something to do with his brother's near-death, he would pay.

So, _of course_ he would volunteer to bring that kid down for questioning. Which he did.

"What is it that the thing does, exactly?" Trouble Kelp asked, poking at the machine. Foaly slapped his hand away.

"It's a Retimager. Everything that someone sees has a permanent etching on the retina. Millions of little needles are contained in the cup to try to find a match for our image. That's the beauty of this baby – even if he got mind-wiped, we'll know if he's lying. For every point that is a match, we get a hit. About 200 hits is normal. Anything above that and he's seen a goblin before," the centaur explained. "Aren't I a genius?"

"I don't know…" Root goaded, with a wink at him. "That Koboi girl is pretty smart too."

That provoked a lengthy argument about how Foaly thought the LEP was in great danger, using too many products from the same company.

"Yeah, well…just scan the damn thing or however you work it and we'll see if he's lying or not."

Foaly scanned several pictures of a goblin onto the machine for a match. The hit result was 186 – negative. Softnose lasers – 164. Still negative. Foaly tried some other images, too. 158 – 146 – the numbers just got lower and lower. Foaly sighed and removed the suction cup.

"Unless he's scrubbed his retinas or something…he's innocent. Fowl's actually telling the truth. He's never traded with Goblins or the B'wa Kell."

* * *

Root grumbled and put his hand on his chin. "Wake him up."

"What?" Trouble nearly jumped out of his seat.

"I said, wake him up! I don't know about you, but Fowl could be useful in this case."

Trouble bristled. Normally, he didn't stand up to his superiors, unlike Holly Short, but the Mud Boy was an exception. "I don't like that idea. Give him any reason to hold it over us and he'll definitely do it, Commander. He's going to be a bigger problem than the goblins if we ask him for help!"

"Well, we're running out of options here. Maybe one of those wizard friends of his knows something about it. He can help track them down," Root sighed.

Trouble groaned. They were cornered and he knew it.

Fowl woke up, straightened his tie, and looked smug. "Now, may I be of service? I assume you still want something from me or I would be regaining consciousness in my own bed with no memory of this occasion. I assume that there _are_ humans trading with the People, obviously, and you want help to track them down because you know that I am not guilty. Am I right?"

"Don't get too cocky, Mud Boy," Root snarled, "but you're right. A goblin gang called the B'wa Kell have graduated from petty crime to an all-out war on the police thanks to batteries traded from humans."

"I suppose that Captain Kelp assumed that it was me," he stated serenely. "Since I have been eliminated from the list of suspects, you have then moved on to the rest of the wizarding population, and want me to find out who the real human contact is, and, more importantly, if he knows about the existence of fairies."

"You're as smart as they say, Mud Boy," Root grunted.

"But…" The Mud Boy was humming with a thoughtful expression. Immediately Trouble knew what was coming. He just knew it. The Mud Boy does nothing without getting something in return. He could see Fowl's mind racing.

"But what?"

"But…I require something in return."

"I knew it!" Trouble raged. "Let me guess – technology? Or – "

Artemis gave the elfin Captain a glare. "It is nothing of the sort, Captain Kelp. One of my friends is being spied on. Help me find out who is tracking him, because they obviously are watching me as well."

Trouble looked at Commander Root. What was he going to do about this? On one hand, Fowl seemed sincere enough. On the other hand, it could just be some other scheme. Finally, the Commander grunted and extended his hand. "Deal."

They shook – another historical moment for fairies and humans, and a horrible moment for Trouble.

"By the way…I think that it would be a good idea if you take me back to the surface now – you can always contact Butler, though. Someone's bound to notice me missing. I'll keep in touch with my laptop, of course."

"How does that thing even work? My sensors picked up the sheer amount of excess energy radiating from that school of yours," Foaly said. "The circuits would have blown by now, unless –"

"– Unless someone converted them to run on magical energy instead," Fowl said smugly.

* * *

_Koboi Laboratories_

"Imagine their faces when they actually find out who's behind this…respected inventor, engineer, businesswoman, genius, and scientist…Opal Koboi."

"Did you mention genius?"

"It was in there somewhere."

"Pretty soon, they'll see the fruits of our labors."

"I can't wait. Root will definitely pay for this. Not that they will."

"I'm afraid they might. Some LEP officers watching the traffic managed to catch a few smugglers."

"They're only batteries. It's not as if they'll care."

"Unfortunately, they will. Those goblins were also carrying softnose lasers."

"Those IDIOTS! I TOLD them not to!"

"It's all right…we already have plenty of batteries anyway. By the time they finally realize it…it'll be too late. Don't fret, dear Cudgeon."

* * *

**A/N: While writing the scene where Artemis was talking to Trouble Kelp, I imagined that it would be like England from Axis Powers Hetalia talking to **_**his**_** "invisible fairy friends." ^^ Of course, Artemis isn't as silly, and the fairies are definitely not there to make him feel better…but still! It's an entirely new way of looking at our evil child genius. **

**By the way, thanks for all the suggestions about the Patronuses and Animagi. The polls are still open so keep listing ideas if you like. Unfortunately, I can't make Artemis' Patronus Butler because…well, that idea's already taken. I've read **_**The Family Name**_**, which anyone would know is probably the mother of all HP/AF crossover fanfics**** (that was what inspired me to write this in the first place, as well as the fact that TFN was not updating),** and I feel that I would be doing Elbereth in April a bit of a disservice by taking that idea.


	8. Pictures of a Friend

**I completely apologize for the long wait. School actually started for me three weeks ago and every one of my teachers thought that it was a good idea to start piling on the work starting day one. I haven't had any access to the internet outside of school-related stuff until yesterday. In any event, updates will be pretty slow in the future, at least until whatever holiday breaks there are.**

* * *

_Hogsmeade_

Artemis frowned as he was ejected from the fairy shuttle. The LEP had searched his pockets when he had been unconscious, and Foaly had conveniently forgotten to give him his cell phone back. It was all right, though, because he had backups, where all the incriminating evidence was stored (after all, it wouldn't do to lose everything just because of a main-use cell phone that could easily be dropped, stolen, or scanned). The only things Foaly would find on there were things that only someone as smart as Foaly could have a chance of finding. Artemis actually hoped Foaly would be successful into hacking his history and see just how imperfect his so-called top-of-the-line security system was.

But enough of that, now. The Gryffindors were back.

"Where were you, Artemis? You just disappeared from the Shrieking Shack!" Granger exclaimed. "We've been running around for _hours_, literally, trying to find you! It's already five in the afternoon!"

"I got a bit bored, so I went around for a little bit, looking for you two," Artemis said, lying smoothly through his teeth.

"For over eight hours?" Granger put her hands on her hips, looking skeptical.

"Evidently, as we were both looking for one another, both of us would constantly be moving and thus have a less likely chance of finding one another. Where did you look for me first?" Artemis asked casually, though there was a reason behind it – if Granger asked where he went in what order, and they did not see him there, it would warrant some inconvenient questioning. This way, Granger would be forced to answer and reveal that information so he could make up a story to go along with it.

"Well, we left the Shrieking Shack, and then we went to get some butterbeer…" said Granger, falling for the bait almost immediately.

"We stayed there until around half past twelve, when we went back to the Shrieking Shack," Weasley added. "Only you weren't there so we went to find you."

"Ah. I left the Shrieking Shack slightly before that. One can only meditate for so long, after all," Artemis commented.

"…I think we went to that little café after we peeked inside the Hog's Head…" Granger continued.

"How odd. I was in there, too. I did not see either of you," Artemis said. This might have been a simple statement, but psychologically it was extremely powerful. Had Granger pointed out that she had not "seen" him there before he had interrupted her, he would have been forced into a defensive position. However, as he had pointed out that fact, it would be more reasonable for them to accept that they really did happen to miss one another.

Within minutes, Artemis had convinced both of them that yes, it was logistically possible for two independent parties to wander around Hogsmeade for about four and a half hours without seeing one another.

Too easy.

* * *

_Hogwarts_

_We might find out who they are soon. _Artemis slipped the coded note into Draco's book and placed it back on the desk when he was not looking.

He went back to the dormitories and accessed his laptop.

"We managed to trace the goblin shuttle from chute 37 back to Paris. It leads straight underground to the Pont Louis-Phillipe. Artemis' eyes widened.

"That is exactly where the entrance to wizarding Paris is. Have you found any matches on your goblin prisoner?"

"We tried to match up his image to yours, to see the closest thing to a Mud Man we could find. It's just this guy – we'll send you an image."

A picture popped up. "Recognize him, Fowl?"

The man's eyes were dully blank, with the irises jagged and crooked. He had been _mesmerized _one too many times. His robes were overly extravagant, and his hair was golden, wavy, and excessively styled. He had an annoying grin on his face, and was standing in an arrogant pose, as if he did so every day. There were peacock quills tucked into his sleeve.

Oh, dear.

"Yes. Definitely yes."

* * *

_Haven City_

"You want us to fly in _that_?" Trouble wailed. "Are you kidding me? It could explode on us at any moment!"

"It'll take too much time to move it back out," Root growled. "Besides, we're in safe hands."

"Why, who's the pilot?"

"Captain Short."

Root noticed with amusement that Captain Kelp had no more real protests after that. The kid had always had an obvious crush on the Captain Short, even back in the days at the Academy (actually, everyone had a crush on the only girl in LEPRecon, anyway). Root was pretty thankful to have Captain Short here – she could always tone down a group of rowdy soldiers if his yelling didn't.

* * *

"Taxi for two fairies and a Mud giant, coming up," she said.

Butler, the boy's bodyguard, had not been too pleased when he learned what his charge had been up to – it was already hard enough having to leave him for a magical school for over half the year – and that school was where Artemis would have needed his help the most, too. Still, he agreed to do this much.

Artemis would follow them in an iris-cam and a radio system. "The fairies have to come, too. You need a spark of magic on the twelfth brick from the bottom, and a tap on every one surrounding it, starting with the one directly on the top and working clockwise. I don't think it can tell the difference between human magical energy and fairy magical energy."

Sure enough, it worked. Butler walked in, disguised in robes and a false wand, while the fairies followed, shielded. Root decided to let Captain Short and Captain Kelp go while he stayed behind to watch the shuttle – those two were always itching for action (and, out of respect for his best Captain, who wanted some time alone to 'strategize' – obviously, with Holly Short. Root found himself snickering – but to hell if he would ever admit that. He never laughed).

"Try to find this Gilderoy Lockhart."

"It should not be too difficult," Artemis said. "He's even more flamboyant than the French."

So this was where their ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had gone – escaping to a foreign country to flee the shame of his cowardly, fraudulent ways. He was probably laying low for the moment, and somehow was targeted because he was nice and easy to _mesmerize_. How he found out how to use Muggle batteries was a mystery – maybe he had a muggle parent of some sort.

Eventually, they traced him down to a tiny little apartment. Foaly switched Butler's iris-cam over to heat-sensitive. "You're good to go – he's alone. Trouble, Holly, see if you can disable whatever protections he's put up around his apartment. Once you're in there, take him down quick and see what he knows. Go!"

Holly shone a laser-scan over the door. "There's a few simple spells around here. Artemis, what should we do?"

Artemis studied the structure of the magic. Disabling a ward was simply like untying a large knot. He whispered instructions to Trouble and Holly. "That's an anti-apparition ward; we can leave that alone because we're not using that method of travel. The one around the door is the only one we need to get rid of, actually – go for what looks like the blue blob in the top left corner first, then go diagonally down to the bottom right, up and over again, like an X."

A rather electrical-sounding _zap _told him that they were successful. "You should be able to enter without triggering any alarms now. I can't see anything on the inside."

They did so.

* * *

_Wizarding Paris_

Butler looked around. This Lockhart fellow certainly spared no expenses.

He was sitting in an expensive armchair, holding a gun of some sort. Wizards didn't use guns…it had to be a fairy prototype.

"What in the world…" Trouble whispered. "How'd he get a Bouncer? That thing will just bounce a laser off the walls until everyone in here gets killed!"

"Butler, be careful," Artemis hissed into his ear. "He's been _mesmerized_, and I'm fairly certain that this guy is more dangerous controlled by an outside source."

"Are you a friend?" he asked, a dumb smile on his face.

Butler raised an eyebrow.

"If you are, stand still so I can take your picture," the silly man continued.

"How about you tell me about all of these batteries first?" Butler asked. Lockhart leapt to his feet, grinning from ear to ear.

"It _is _you! Say cheese!" He took aim, and fired.

Butler acted quickly. He seized the prototype watch that was among Foaly's "gifts" (they would have to be returned, though) and threw it around the Bouncer, generating a force field barely large enough to contain the gun and its deadly bouncing laser. The blast richocheted around the inside of the force field and created a small explosion, enough to knock everyone in the room off-balance, but the important thing was that it was contained.

Afterwards, Butler quickly overpowered Lockhart and knocked him to the ground. Butler pressed two fingers to the man's neck, to check his pulse, and they began questioning him.

"Are you Gilderoy Lockhart?"

"Yes. Order of Merlin, Third Class – " Butler quickly cut him off, not wanting to waste time listening to the idiot brag about his (probably now forsaken) titles.

"Have you ever sold Muggle batteries to a mysterious buyer?"

"No…" his pulse skyrocketed. That was a lie – he was the man they were looking for.

"Have you ever made deals with goblins?"

"At Gringotts, yes."

"How about outside of that?"

"No…" He was telling the truth.

"Thank Frond," Holly whispered. "Whoever talked to him was too smart to actually reveal themselves – they've probably been communicating through the _mesmer_ this entire time."

"At least we know that our secret is safe," Trouble said.

"Especially from that buffoon," Artemis muttered through Butler's earpiece. "He wasted an entire year of my education."

"Don't complain, Fowl – I bet you're already ahead of everyone else anyway."

"The problem now is that there are other fairies who know about the wizards. We have to stop them."

"Got it, Mud Boy."

Butler stepped away from Lockhart. Once the French Ministry of Magic discovered him, he could explain to them all he wanted about the piles of counterfeit Muggle money and fake gold by himself.

* * *

_Slytherin Dormitories_

"Hey, Artemis, who are you talking to?" Blaise walked in. Artemis hastily closed his laptop and shoved it under his sheets.

"My butler," he said. "I was using a communicator book." It wasn't exactly a lie.

"Oh. Okay."

"Do you need something?"

"Nah, Granger just told me that she wanted to talk to you, that's all."

"Tell her I'll be with her in just a minute. I'm slightly occupied at the moment."

"What am I, a messenger?" Blaise complained. But he went back outside anyway. Artemis opened his laptop again.

* * *

_Haven City_

"Okay, what do we have so far?" Root asked the entire room. Artemis was still following them on his laptop. It wasn't as if anyone would see him – it _was_ the weekend, after all. On the other side, the sheer amount of magic from Hogwarts contaminating the air would turn even the greatest hacker's efforts futile.

"We caught a goblin, who wasn't high up enough in the organization to know about the more important details. We've cut off their supplies, but we don't know how many they've smuggled in so far. And I'm still miffed about that Opal Koboi comment," Foaly said.

"Whatever, donkey boy. Okay. Captain Kelp, get out there, and take control of the field. See if we can't root out a few goblin gangs – I want no loose ends: who's organizing the B'wa Kell, and why?"

"Yessir."

"So, now that I've done my end of the bargain, what about the spies?" Artemis asked.

"It's a bit hard from here," Foaly complained. "But at least all of my sensors aren't just picking up huge, random, blue blobs anymore. Now, who was it that you wanted traced?"

"Draco Malfoy. I don't want to trace him; I want to find out _who_ is tracing him – possibly _what_. His own father is actually spying on him to make sure he acts the 'right' way, and I need to know how. The possibilities are too great and I don't want his father to realize that we have realized what he is doing."

"All right," Foaly said. "Where do you want to start?"

"Let's do tracing spells first. First, scan him personally. Then, take at the look at the rest of the school," Artemis decided.

A few minutes passed, and Foaly was back on the line. "My signature sensors didn't pick up anything out of the ordinary on Mud Boy #2. He's completely clear, except for his own magic, so unless he is tracking himself, there's nothing magically spying on him, and nothing magically hiding whatever is magically spying on him. As for the school, there's nothing there either. It took me a while to pick apart all of the different wards, but I don't see anything out of the ordinary. I checked the time stamps, and all of those spells around the school were put there hundreds of years ago when the school was actually built. So unless his father is that old…"

"I understand," Artemis cut in quickly, before Foaly could waste any more time. "Anything else? Such as spells operating from a foreign system?"

Foaly hummed. "Your Pig-Snorts school – "

"Hogwarts."

"Yeah, whatever. Pig-warts is an extremely isolated system, so there's no way to operate something distantly without actual technology – something the wizards clearly lack."

Well, that was a relief. That meant the spies were actually physically accessible. Spells and wards would have been a pain to remove, especially if there were triggers that showed when a connection was cut. Replacing them with fake sensors and getting the timing perfectly was extremely difficult.

"In that case, we need to run up a list of Lucius Malfoy's contacts. Anyone inside of Hogwarts – teachers, students, staff, et cetera, is fair game, regardless of age, gender – "

"Elves, too?"

"Excuse me?"

"Apparently there's house elves in Hogwarts," Foaly said disgustedly.

"Possibly…Lucius Malfoy keeps a bunch of them as well."

"As _slave labor_? What kind of sick people are these?" Commander Root roared. As expected.

"They're rather queer little things. Nothing like our Haven fairies. There must have been some really wide genetic gap way back when," Foaly reported.

"Don't blame me. I didn't know that house-elves lived in Hogwarts. I thought that only upper-class, pureblood wizarding nobility used them," Artemis said defensively.

"Like you?"

"The Fowls are served by this family of people called the _Butlers_, in case you haven't noticed," Artemis retorted frostily. "And we actually pay them, too."

"Whatever. So what did you say you wanted me to search?" Foaly said impatiently, trying to get over the ridiculous banter and finish his work.

"Try to find any of the people inside of Hogwarts who have direct connections to Lucius Malfoy. That should narrow it down," Artemis tried. "It shouldn't be too hard – most wizards have no idea about how technology works and probably don't know how to cover their tracks each time a transaction is made."

Foaly began searching the databases. "Most of this is going to take awhile – I actually have to do manual searches because wizards don't have computing systems. Everything by magic – lucky bastards," he swore. Artemis ignored him.

"Well, the only teacher with direct connection to Lucius Malfoy is this Severus Snape guy," Foaly reported after a while.

"Keep going," Artemis said. It couldn't have been Professor Snape – could it? The man, while he blatantly favored Draco in front of the Gryffindors, secretly disapproved of the bad manners that his father had taught him. Professor Snape was smart enough to know that supporting Lucius Malfoy in any way meant even further fueling his extremist right-wing policies – especially if it involved helping Lucius disciplining his own offspring. Since Professor Snape had tried to use Legilimency on him before, he definitely knew Occlumency, too, so probing his mind would not work.

Anyway, Artemis had the tiniest suspicion that trying to Confound a teacher was not a very smart thing to do.

Just a tiny suspicion. Nothing major, really. He was only 99% confident that doing so would land him in Dumbledore's office with a snapped wand – given that Professor Snape didn't personally finish him off first, of course.

"Okay…how about this Marcus Flint kid? Apparently, he's accepting the help of a governmental benefactor – Lucius Malfoy, again – in receiving a spot on a professional Quid-whatever team once he's out of school."

"Quidditch," Artemis corrected. Yes, that could make sense. He took out a slip of parchment and wrote the name down. Then, he decided just to write Professor Snape's name down as well – not that it would do them any good, of course. It was just the principle of his nature, to never convict without proof of guilt, but never eliminate a potential suspect without proof of innocence. "Anyone else? I'm certain that Lucius Malfoy would have more than one spy running around; he's too clever to put all of his eggs into one basket."

"There's a Cormac McLaggen who's also asking for his help for the same reason." Artemis didn't know anyone of that name, but he supposed he would have to look anyway.

"House elf named Dobby and wife named Narcissa…they don't exactly leave their house, though…close friends, a Mr. Crabbe and a Mr. Goyle, both have children in school who are Draco Malfoy's age –"

"Those two goons are too stupid to even read and write properly. Lucius Malfoy wouldn't trust them with any spy work – they just act as imbecilic muscle – bodyguards, of sorts – for his son." Unless it was an act of incompetence to cover up their true intentions…As highly improbable as it was, it didn't hurt to be safe. After all, Quirrell was supposedly incompetent, too. That being said, he wrote their names down.

Foaly kept searching and humming to himself. Artemis was on the verge of turning off the speakers – Foaly listened to horrible music already and it didn't help that he was a terrible singer besides. For such a technical genius, he had and extremely poor grasp on symphonic composition. Riverbend music was repetitive and annoying – even more so when the occasional whinny or snort was added in.

"No house-elves…apparently, the Hogwarts house-elves are solely under the command of the school…"

"Lucius Malfoy probably wouldn't trust a 'lower being' to do the work anyway," Artemis muttered.

"But I _do_ have a few more students. There's the daughter of his close friend, some Mr. Parkinson – I can't even pronounce his first name because wizards always have such long and unusual names. He also knows some other people who all have their kids in school…"

"Read off all of their last names. Lucius Malfoy has a lot of connections – I wouldn't be surprised if all of Slytherin House is on there."

"Pucey, Greengrass, Nott, Zabini, Bole, Chevalier, Derrick…" Artemis wrote all of them down.

Foaly reached the end of the list. "That's all I have. I did a full scan of the entire school attendance list."

"All right. Thank you, Foaly."

"I hope to never see you again, Mud Boy," Foaly snarked.

"I hope to never see you again, either, because I know that if I do, it will not be for anything good," Artemis retorted.

* * *

**A/N: By the way, I completely forgot to mention this. My former beta actually stopped replying about halfway through **_**King of Serpents: Summer of Ice**_**, and I've been working solo until about Chapter 5 of this story.**

**That being said, big fat kudos (which are healthier than cookies) to JohnLocke94 right now for being an awesome beta. He has been a wonderful help editing this story, whether for spelling/grammar errors or plot continuity, and I really appreciate it. **

_Extra: _

Ten Tips from Artemis Fowl II about Lying:

1. Keep them simple. Simple lies are easy for others to believe and easy for you to keep track of.

2. Make up an extremely outrageous or sarcastic story that is so poorly thrown together it is quite obviously a lie first. It will make your actual lie seem dull and believable by comparison. If applicable, pretend to break down and that you have been coerced into confessing the truth before stating your actual lie. Most people would not expect two lies in a row.

3. Treat the interrogation as more of a conversation. Get involved, interact, and question the other party as if you are genuinely confused. It will reinforce your innocence. It will also allow you to gain information about what the other party already knows.

4. Get your facts straight. Surreptitiously pull as many facts from your questioner as possible to have a foundation to build your own story on.

5. Be too dumb to fool. Do not react to any insinuations except for the painfully obvious, in which case one should react in a righteous but not overly dramatic way.

6. Manipulate your questioners' feelings so that they feel extremely guilty for even suspecting you in the first place. That includes provoking their sympathy or sense of pity. Act angry, sad, or hurt at any accusations. If there are other people present, uninvolved bystanders included, make them your allies, so that your questioners feel pressured to leave you alone. If you are a female or happen to look like one, try crying as well (but do not sob, because that is fake and annoying.)

7. Tell the complete truth about something totally off-topic. Make this topic closely related to the current situation while not truly answering any questions at all. It will make you seem genuinely helpful, as if you really want to provide as much information as possible. Simultaneously, you will also be confusing your interrogator as he or she is trying to return to his or her former train of thought, buying you more time to consolidate your own story.

8. Pay attention to yourself carefully when you converse with others under normal circumstances. Practice repeating these actions when you are trying to lie. It will help you eliminate some behavorial tics of a liar, such as too much or too little eye contact, odd voice patterns and pitches, nervousness, and the like.

9. You must control your own lies, not the other way around. People who lie too much too often tend to develop paranoia and overanalyze others. Remember that everyone lies, but most only do so out of necessity and few have the mental capability to properly scheme and compulsively lie.

10. Don't try to lie to me. You won't win.


	9. Hide and Seek

Artemis and Draco could not meet each other directly, in case any of the suspects were watching, so they recruited the help of Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini.

"Give us an excuse to come in contact with each other – Lucius Malfoy does not approve."

Blaise had laughed. "Since when did Draco's dad ever approve of anything?"

Theodore wanted to stay out of it, but agreed to do at least that much. "Sure, I guess."

Artemis could easily tell that both of their friends were innocent. Blaise was simply too sincere in his annoyance at Lucius Malfoy, while Theodore was always easily concerned. Neither of them would be a good choice for Lucius as a spy, no matter how close to Draco they were. Artemis was good at reading liars, and besides, both Blaise and Theodore had agreed, surprisingly, to the Confundus treatment.

Logically, of course, it was the best thing to do – they were innocent already, so it wouldn't make a difference, and it prevented any future slip-ups.

* * *

During lunch, Artemis slipped Draco a copy of the list of potential suspects. _These are the people you have to watch out for. Our plan is to question them, but not to take them out so that your father will have to replace them. Hopefully we can persuade our spies to start working for us instead – if they feed your father faulty information you will have more freedom._

Draco was grateful, but annoyed at the long list. He replied, _This is practically all of Slytherin House. It would take an extremely long time to track everyone down. We should invent some sort of standardized insult code to verbally communicate, like we did during that Quidditch match, in the meantime. Passing too many notes might seem suspect._

That was actually a rather intelligent idea. _You know more insults than me, _he wrote back. _Make your own list. Tell me the translations later._

* * *

_Defense Against the Dark Arts_

"It's all right, everyone," Lupin said, appearing more haggard than ever as he returned from yet another absence. "You don't have to do that work Professor Snape assigned you.

Everyone cheered, except for Granger, who wailed, "But I've already finished mine!"

"You can turn that in for extra credit, then," Lupin smiled.

"In that case, take my essay, too," Artemis said, handing his own scroll in, along with a few other more diligent students. The rest of their classmates scowled at them.

"Like you guys need any extra points."

For today's lesson, Lupin had brought in a live Hinkypunk. It didn't seem like much – a short, wispy, figureless creature which tottered unsteadily on its one leg while carrying a large lantern with its long, spindly arms. Despite its diminutive appearance, it was still dangerous, as it had a habit of luring lost travelers at night off the safe roads into swamps and bogs. Normally Artemis would have been interested in such a deceptive creature, but his mind was currently divided. Consciously, he was paying attention and taking notes that he probably did not need, like a model student, but in the back of his head, he was trying to think of a way to talk to Professor Lupin without adding to Professor Snape's already foul mood.

Professor Lupin was reasonably talented – he knew his material and was a fairly engaging teacher compared to the former Defense professors Artemis had had the misfortune to deal with (though given the nature of his predecessors, that wouldn't have taken much effort anyway). At this point, he had no reason to be untrustworthy – though it couldn't hurt to be on guard all of the time.

The other teachers weren't likely to trust a Slytherin, especially one as intelligently devious as Artemis – no matter how fair McGonagall was openly, she was still a practical woman. Artemis couldn't blame her; while each House had its fair share of intelligent students, Slytherin House usually ended up getting the most…_political _ones. Besides, she was too strict and would never give out anything classified.

And while Professor Snape would normally be happy to surreptitiously drop hints for his students, Artemis was sure that the man was not in the mood to appreciate prowling at the moment. In any event, Lupin, being the newest teacher, seemed the most open to the students and thus the most likely to get any sort of information from. Also, Artemis just needed to talk to Lupin personally. Artemis already knew the other teachers well, but as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers never lasted longer than a year, he had had little time to interact with Professor Lupin. And not having this sort of information could prove to be a dangerous oversight in the future. Logically, in any group or organization, the newest members should be scrutinized.

"Professor Lupin, I would like to ask you something about Sirius Black," Artemis said, purposefully looking like he was getting straight to the point, but hiding his underlying motives in reality. There was no beating around the bush (because the first question was still a genuine concern), but this wasn't Artemis' primary objective, either. It was a handy method of extracting information – being upfront enough to seem harmless, so that when the real questions came, it did not seem so unusual.

"What is there to know, Mr. Fowl?" Professor Lupin replied.

"How do you suspect he managed to sneak into the castle?" Artemis was not trying to be malicious or manipulative in any way – but he needed inside views from Black's own generation if he was going to find anything out. If he was going to keep himself safe – which meant keeping Harry Potter safe by proxy – he was going to have to know as much as possible. Artemis already heard the official story, but there was not much about Black's past or his psychology in there.

"Why ask me now?" Ah. Lupin was a careful man. Well, Artemis wasn't worried.

"I couldn't very well ask you when you were out of class, _ill_, could I?" Artemis pointed out.

Lupin looked at him oddly, with a mixture of distrust and…fear? Interesting. It would take a few more months, to confirm the theory, but for now, Artemis would keep quiet. Hogwarts may have had a history of untrustworthy and terrible Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, but Artemis did not want to accuse and possibly ruin an innocent man – especially one who was actually competent.

"But that is beside the point. I have my theories on Black, and only need a bit of confirmation."

Lupin looked worried. "Please don't tell me you intend to do what I think you are intending to do."

Artemis rolled his eyes. "I am not Harry Potter, Professor. I value my own life. And that is why I want to know this. Of course we cannot tell him, because he is sure to react violently, but somebody has to carry the secret."

Lupin nodded. "Very well. To be honest…I shouldn't be telling you this, but I suppose that since I am not specifying where and undoubtedly you already know of their existence…Hogwarts has several secret passages in and out of the school. A great deal of them lead to Hogsmeade. There are Dementors there, but they simply patrol the perimeters and do not enter any shops or homes. Black could have easily hidden in one and entered Hogwarts from there, undetected."

"I see. And no one ever made a point to close these passageways?" Artemis asked.

Lupin pinched the bridge of his nose. "The problem is, no one knows exactly how many there are or where they are. Most of the secret entrances to Hogwarts have been discovered over generations of troublemaking students out of bed at night, and even they haven't discovered everything. The teachers know about a few and they have been patrolling those areas more frequently, of course, but you should know that Black has gone to this school like any other wizard. After all, even Voldemort was once a schoolboy, here."

It took all of Artemis' willpower not to react to that. He knew all too well what the schoolboy Voldemort was like.

"Despite his actions, he was a talented wizard, and knows how to manipulate the system quite well," Lupin continued.

"I suppose you know him, then," Artemis concluded.

Lupin seemed half sorrowful, and half annoyed at himself. "I suppose you could say we've met."

So…Professor Lupin was connected to Black. Professor Lupin was also connected to Professor Snape, somehow. Artemis wouldn't be surprised if, at the end, this all turned out to be one big triangle of hate. From Lupin's expressions and emotions, it seemed as if he was regretful and angry about something – so perhaps a spy, perhaps not, but a former acquaintance all the same. He had too little evidence to make any proper conclusions right now, so his work was just mostly all speculation, but suspecting everybody should be enough to account for that.

* * *

"_All right – if I call you a blood-traitor it means at eight because 'traitor' sounds a bit like 'eight' – but if I add 'filthy' in front of that it means that it's actually 8:00 P.M.,"_ Draco passed Artemis a note under the table, trying not to snigger. Artemis sighed. Working out their little code got rather childish and immature, as it turned into a real insult war, but it was also slightly fun. Artemis could now somewhat understand why people enjoyed performing such puerile actions – not that he condoned anything of the sort, of course.

"_If I retort 'icy snob' it means that we should meet in the Astronomy Tower," _Artemis wrote back. _"And if I say that you are just like your father, go to the dungeons instead. But if I say that we should take it outside or continue it later and walk away with my nose in the air, we should go back to the dormitories."_

"What are you guys smiling about?" Theodore asked curiously.

"Stop it, Artemis, you're creeping me out," Blaise said nervously, carefully watching the vampire grin as Artemis maliciously passed the note back to Draco. His grin widened when he saw his friend's eyebrows shoot up in offended shock. Draco angrily scribbled another insult onto the paper and passed it back.

"We are having an insult war," he said loftily, "as usual."

"Sheesh, and I was hoping this year would be peaceful for once."

* * *

They talked to Crabbe and Goyle first. Artemis safely deemed that it would be fine to use Legilimency on those two, since they were probably too inept to notice either way. It was easy, too – the fools just stared ahead blankly, without blinking. Artemis left the questioning to Draco while he took a quick peek in their memories.

Nothing but food, grunting, scratching their unusually small heads (did they have some form of microcephalae?), and more food. Their fathers were the same way, and their mothers didn't care much. Definitely innocent.

"I wouldn't trust Crabbe and Goyle with any spying, either," Draco said, but they were Confounded just in case.

Artemis talked to Pansy next, since she was always trying to cling onto Draco's arm (much to his annoyance). Actually, he did not talk to her – he barely said the word "Draco" before she began talking and talking about how wonderful and amazing he was and how they were definitely going to get married in the future. Then, she began gossiping about how much she hated this one Ravenclaw girl and how some other girl did this and that.

What a drama queen. He decided that he was too short on time to question her any further, and simply performed a quick _Legilimens_ on her. She had nothing to do with Lucius Malfoy, either, but she, too, had her memory modified, in case she met Lucius Malfoy on some chance occasion and inadvertently revealed something she shouldn't have.

He crossed her name off. Running after every suspect was getting extremely tiring, but they had to be thorough. Everyone with any relation or contact to Lucius Malfoy was dealt with. Down they went on the list.

"Marcus Flint? Are you serious?" Draco asked.

"Unfortunately."

They cornered him – they probably did not look very threatening to him – two small third-year kids – but he was smart enough to know their influence and intelligence. "What's up, guys?"

Draco cut to the chase. "Did my father promise you a spot in professional Quidditch after you graduated?"

"Why yes. He's a great man."

"And what did he ask for in return?"

"What do you mean? It's just connections. Anyone who wants to be in Quidditch knows that."

"Anyone who know Lucius Malfoy knows that he doesn't do any favors without later payment," Artemis pointed out. "Don't play around, Flint. Let's save both of us some time and answer the question that we both know I am about to ask."

"Don't you dare threaten me – "

"I have every right and ability," Artemis said, smiling. "I know for a fact that no matter how fast you are on a broom, Mr. Future-Quidditch-Star, you can't escape a well-placed Body-Bind Curse."

Flint glared at him and loomed over Artemis like a giant. Perfect. Just where he needed him – they were making direct eye contact and the other was probably too angry to notice what Artemis was really trying to do, if he was intelligent enough to know at all.

"We've caught a rat – well, one of them anyway," he told Draco.

"What are you insinuating?" Flint snapped. Artemis drew his wand. "Confundo!"

Flint went into a confused daze. "From now on, Flint, you will always report to Lucius Malfoy that Draco only associates with pure-blood Slytherins and avoids blood traitors, Muggle-borns, and any other person unworthy, regardless of his real actions."

"I will always report to Lucius Malfoy that his son associates with the right crowd no matter what," Flint repeated dully.

"You will never question your own report afterwards, because you are always right when you say Draco is doing fine."

"I will never question my reports."

"You will walk away and forget this ever happened."

"This never happened."

Sure enough, after Artemis released the spell, Marcus Flint simply walked past them without sparing them a second glance. "I suppose that did work, after all."

"That was brilliant. Now let's find the others."

* * *

After a bit more running around, they cornered Daphne Greengrass. She was not as resistant as Marcus Flint, though, so there was no need to pin her down or duel her or anything. Obviously, she was cleverer – she knew that Artemis was a hell lot more dangerous than he looked. And Artemis looked pretty dangerous.

"Listen, I'm sorry I was spying on you, but I never meant to do harm. I really just told your father that you did your homework and hung out with Fowl sometimes. Sorry if he yelled at you for it," she said.

"Why don't you just conveniently forget that I associate with blood-traitors and Muggle-borns sometimes?" Draco suggested. "Having to insult people all the time is a pain."

"I'll try…I don't know if he'll believe me, though."

"Hey, I've been better – meaning more disdainful – call it a great improvement. He gave me a talk over the summer; he'll think that it actually works," Draco said.

"Do you know any of the other spies?" Artemis tried.

Daphne lowered her voice. "I'm not supposed to. But I know that there's at least two more because of a mail mix-up. One of theme's Flint – your Quidditch captain, Draco – "

"Already got him," Artemis sneered.

Daphne looked rather taken aback and swallowed nervously. "He's actually using a Gryffindor, too – Cormac McLaggen. I don't know if there's anyone else."

"Thank you." Cormac McLaggen did make sense – he was on the list that Foaly had helped pull up, after all. A Gryffindor, though – Artemis supposed that he was a pureblood with connections for the prejudiced man to even consider using him.

"Can I go now?"

"Yes. You may leave. Thank you for your cooperation." As she turned around and walked away, Artemis pointed his wand at her back and Confunded her, too. "Sorry for catching you off-guard with a sneak attack like that," Artemis said to the dazed girl, "but you should know better, being in Slytherin House."

As she walked away, Draco hissed to Artemis, "We should just go and beat up that idiot. I hate him – he's more arrogant than Weasley. The oldest one still here, anyway."

Artemis could understand his friend's disdain for the eldest Weasley. The twins were childish, and Ronald sometimes became annoying because he was so hotheaded, and Ginny – well, she was still rather shy, but she had gotten better – but Percy was just an absolute blockhead. He even had the impertinence to have once treated Artemis like an inexperienced child who did not know anything (Artemis probably knew more than he did, anyway). He was a complete iron man when it came to the rules, which Artemis found extremely inconvenient, because he preferred bending them until he found a loophole.

"At least Weasley is somewhat competent," Draco muttered. "McLaggen is a complete buffoon – why did my dad even pick him?"

"Perhaps he wanted an opinion from a different House," Artemis reasoned. "He might have been afraid that the Slytherins would be too easily influenced by us, so he picked a Gryffindor who would be less likely to have his ideals bent for us. I assume that McLaggen is one of the rare, pureblood Gryffindors from an actually influential family."

"Well, McLaggen's the only one I know who fits that. Personally, if I had to pick a spy from Gryffindor, I'd pick Dean Thomas – he's extremely easy to manipulate and he doesn't stand out much, either. But, of course, he's Muggle-born, so my father wouldn't even spare him a second glance," Draco stated.

"How unfortunate it is that prejudice interferes with good judgment," Artemis said.

"Unfortunate for him, maybe," Draco muttered. "Good for us."

* * *

McLaggen was slightly more difficult to catch because they had no idea where to get him to an empty, secluded place for questioning, but eventually, they caught him sneaking up to the owlery one evening.

"That's a lovely letter you've got there," Draco drawled. "Mind if we see it?"

"It's none of your business," McLaggen snapped, trying to get away.

"Oh, I think that it is," Draco said maliciously, advancing on him. "Writing lovely stories about me to my father, aren't you?"

McLaggen's eyes grew wide and grabbed the nearest owl, attempting to attach the scroll to its leg. Artemis' eyes widened. If the owl got away, Lucius Malfoy would probably find out what they were up to.

Out of nowhere, Hecate swooped in and began attacking the other owl, beating her wings and clawing at it with her razor-sharp talons, all the while screeching hideously and pecking at the school owl with her hooked beak. The fight was not exactly fair – a giant eagle owl versus a rather smaller-than-average sized barn owl. The poor animal tried to fly away from its adversary, but it was stopped. Hecate grabbed the letter attached to her victim and finally sent the other creature away with a final blow. She deposited the little scroll in Artemis' hands.

"Smart owl you got there," Draco commented lightly. Artemis unrolled the parchment and took a look at it. This was definitely their third spy.

"So, here we have our final rat," Artemis said.

"And you know what snakes do to rats," Draco sneered, laughing.

"That was actually not that bad."

McLaggen, though cornered, still tried to maintain an air of bravado. "What do you creeps want?"

"We want you to stop spying on me and just pretend like I'm a perfectly good boy who doesn't associate with lesser blood," Draco said. "Is it too hard for you?"

McLaggen gulped. "Why not. It's easier for me to say what Mr. Malfoy wants to hear anyway. Now let me go."

Artemis stared at him. His reaction was too quick, too nervous. He was easily lying. He just wanted what Lucius Malfoy promised and was not taking any second chances in case he was discovered to be lying.

"Of course you may go," Artemis hissed. "But not without a bit of…_persuasion_, first."

He received the Confundus treatment just like Flint.

"I still think that we should hex him," Draco complained.

"Quit whining," Artemis scolded. "I helped you get rid of three rats, didn't I? Now you can leech off Hermione's History of Magic homework again without fear of another big fat lecture from Father."

"Are you really calling her _Hermione_ now? Ooooh," Draco teased, at the expense of sounding like Blaise.

"Shut up."

"Oh, what an eloquent response."

"You are so immature. I can call anyone I please by first name."

* * *

**A/N: I'm sorry for putting more restrictions on your wonderful ideas…I've had several people ask about a fairy Patronus and unfortunately I don't think that would be feasible. I actually considered it before it was suggested, but it wouldn't work out too well for Artemis. People would probably be wondering, "What is that thing? It's got arms and legs but it isn't a human, and it has wings or something," and explanations would get awkward quickly.**

**So, unfortunately, please make the suggestions something that all the Hogwarts people can see and immediately go, "Oh, I know what that is, and it makes complete sense for a guy like Artemis."**


End file.
